by Aven Ellis
“The people you want to represent are diverse and modern,” I continue. “Don’t sacrifice your heart when you don’t have to. You deserve the world, Xander. And that includes a woman who loves you. For you. Don’t you dare believe she doesn’t exist, because I know she does. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t find her.”
Xander stares back at me in shock. He’s silent as he takes in my words.
I sit back down next to him. “Please don’t give up on love. I never knew what that meant until now. I know I love Roman, and I never thought it was possible, the happiness I have now. He makes me feel alive, Xander. You deserve this same happiness. I can’t imagine you spending your life without it. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, let alone my brother.”
I know I’ve verbally slapped him. He sits still, unmoving, my words hanging in the air between us.
“I don’t want to talk about India,” he finally says.
My heart breaks. Xander is determined not to hear me.
“But what you said,” he continues, “can apply to Roman, can’t it?”
Now it’s my turn to be silent.
“You’re right,” he says. “Christian has changed everything. Not only for me, but for you. There will always be critics. Trolls. My mum. It takes a special person to overcome all of that, but you will never control it. I know you’re terrified Roman will get into this and then leave you.”
I blink back tears. “He could leave before he ever falls in love with me,” I say, forcing the words out.
Or he could fall out of love with me if he does already love me, I think with anguish.
“If what you say about love is true,” Xander says slowly, “Roman will find a way to handle this. It won’t be easy, but as Clementine told me, she never wanted easy. She wanted Christian. According to you, this is what we should want. Roman could be that man, Liz, but you have to let him decide what he wants. If he doesn’t want the protection of secrecy, you’ll have to respect that and trust that if he loves you, he will get through it.”
I know Xander is right. I should have talked all this through with Roman, even though it’s early on in our relationship, because of my situation. He always should have been a part of the conversation. I confused him and kept him in the dark, and that was wrong.
And now it’s time to make it right.
Xander rises from the sofa. “Are you okay?”
I stand. “Where are you going?”
“That wasn’t the question,” he says.
I smile. “Thanks to you, I will be. I’m going to go visit a certain gardener now.”
Xander gives me a hug. “Tell Roman I want to meet him.”
I step back from him, and he goes towards the door.
“And where are you going?” I inquire.
Xander gives me the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.
“I need to talk to India,” he says slowly. “It’s time to end this charade.”
My heart is filled with relief. He did listen.
“If you have no chance of loving her, it’s the right thing to do,” I reassure him.
“I only hope you’re right, Liz.”
“About breaking up with India?”
“No. About someone out there being able to love me for me.”
Then he opens the door and leaves, shutting it behind him.
I walk with purpose towards Cheltham House. I’m throwing all caution aside in what I’m about to do, but Xander made me understand I have to let Roman have a say in how we move forward. As much as I want to protect him, to shield him from the humiliation Antonia and the press will no doubt throw upon him, I can’t hide him forever. He needs to see the ugliness of my life.
And make his own choice if he can love me enough to live with it.
I stand in the queue to buy an admission ticket. I’m still in my yoga clothing, my hair in a ponytail at the nape of my neck, my face blotchy from crying, but I don’t care. This is what a modern princess who had a fight with her boyfriend looks like, and the world can put it all over social media for all I care.
I pay for my admission, and the woman puts a wristband on me. I bypass the entrance to the house and head straight for the gardens, my heart hammering inside my chest. Roman didn’t leave a message on my phone, so I have no idea if he called me back to apologise or argue some more or break up with me.
The last option brings new tears to my eyes. Because where I’m about to go with Roman is faster than I wanted. He could hate what is about to happen to him. He could decide I’m not worth it.
But that is a risk my heart is more than willing to take now.
I stroll down the path, desperate to find the one person I’m searching for. I’m oblivious to the people around me, not caring if they recognise me. I head towards the walled garden, past the shrubs and topiaries, hoping I’ll find him. Maybe I should go to the greenhouses first, or find a staff member to ask where he is. I’m about to turn around and head back towards the house when I see him.
I stop on the path. Roman is working on branches against the brick wall, ones with no blooms and bare for winter. I can see he’s cutting them back, no doubt preparing for a beautiful bloom this spring.
My throat goes dry. My chest aches. I will myself to move forward.
He hears my footsteps and lifts his head in the direction of the sound. When he sees me, he drops his pruners in shock. I cut across the grass, as it’s the shortest path to him. I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my heart.
Roman’s eyes stay locked on mine as I get closer. But this time, I don’t stop five feet from him. I close the gap so we’re only inches apart.
“Lizzie,” he says, his voice thick, “I’m—”
“If you want me to touch you right now,” I say, interrupting him, “I will.”
His hazel eyes widen with my words. “What?”
“I promise you, Roman, I only wanted to protect you, and us, by delaying the intrusion that is about to come into your life. You say you know what is about to happen, but you don’t. My deepest fear,” I tell him, my voice wobbling as I force the words out, “is that it will be too much. That you will leave. Which I understand you might do, and you have every right to. But that is why I wanted to keep us quiet. Half the reason was for you, but in truth, half the reason was selfish. I was afraid I would lose you. I still might.”
“No,” Roman whispers. “You won’t.”
The tears I vowed not to shed rush back, and I blink. “You say that, but if we go forward, in public, Antonia will humiliate you. You might hate what your life becomes. I thought, with time, I could ease this transition for you and prepare you the best that I can. I’d do everything in my power so you wouldn’t resent me, or become disappointed in me,” I say, my voice breaking, “and decide being with me isn’t worth it.”
The second I finish speaking, Roman’s hands frame my face, and his mouth captures mine in a desperate kiss. I feel the tears fall from my eyes as his tongue tangles with mine, making a statement with a bold, passionate kiss for anyone to see.
I’m his.
I kiss him back, liberated by his declaration. His kiss tells me he’s not afraid of the storm that is to come. He’s willing to take this on, all of it—the press, the monarchy, the queen.
Because I’m worth it.
I savour every moment, imprinting this kiss on my brain. I smell sandalwood and the fresh dirt that is on his skin. He tastes of mint, and I feel the wetness of tears on my cheeks and the soft fabric of his checked shirt sleeves, which I am gripping onto as I kiss him back with the same passion and intensity.
Making him mine.
Roman breaks the kiss, and I see desperation in his eyes, the golden flecks now coming alive in them. “I am so sorry I was such an arse to you,” he says, his deep voice tinged with regret. “I’m so sorry. I know you, Lizzie. I do. I know your heart, and it was my own past coming up and warning me that you would leave me, too.”
The penn
y drops for me. This was about his own broken heart.
I move my hands to his face. He lowers his forehead to mine.
“I thought it was the beginning of you seeing I didn’t fit in your world and being disappointed in the man I am,” he whispers as I caress his face, stroking the stubble that has shaded his skin. “While I survived that happening once, this time I couldn’t. I couldn’t because you would be the one to break my heart.”
Roman stands up straight so he can gaze into my eyes. “You could break my heart because I’m falling in love with you, Lizzie. I’m falling in love with you.”
Chapter 24
Grape Vines
He’s falling in love with me.
Never have any words given me such elation as those beautiful words he said out loud.
Twice.
My feelings, the ones I hoped he would reciprocate in the future, are closer at hand than I ever dared to dream.
I’m about to erupt in giddiness when Roman speaks first. “I know it’s only been a week,” he says, continuing in absence of me saying anything. “I know you might think this is mad or careless, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I never thought I’d say this so soon, but after what an idiot I was, I wanted you to know my feelings are real, Lizzie. That’s why I reacted so badly earlier when I thought you were embarrassed of me. But I know you would never, ever feel that way.”
“Roman,” I say softly, gazing up into his hazel eyes, “I’m falling in love with you, too.” I decide not to tell him I’m already there, as that might put pressure on him to feel something he’s not quite ready for yet.
Surprise lights up his handsome face. “You are?”
I laugh. “Well, you are falling in love with me; isn’t it natural that I’m falling in love with you, too?”
I’m rewarded with a brilliant smile. “I can’t stop what I’m feeling,” he admits. “Every time I talk to you, every time I’m with you, I find myself handing over pieces of my heart to you. More to the point, I want to give them to you. Only you.”
I think my heart is about to burst right open with love for this man.
“You have made me so happy,” I whisper so only he can hear me, even though it’s just us and the barren branches in this part of the garden.
“I want you to know something,” Roman says, cradling the back of my head with his large hand. “I’m not scared of social media or the press. They can say what they want. I don’t care.”
I wince from his words. “Roman, you say that, but you don’t know the world that I live in.”
“I think I do. I was there when the press descended on Clementine. There will be an interest in me. People will make fun of the dynamic of a gardener and a princess. They will say I’m not good enough, and that you are digging through the rubbish bin for a man. So what, Lizzie? The only thing that matters to me is what you think.”
Tears fill my eyes. “I’m afraid you won’t feel that way once your life is out there for everyone to read. I don’t ever want you to be hurt because you are with me.”
“No, no, don’t say that,” Roman says, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. They can mock me, attack me, I don’t care.”
Now the tears fall.
“Roman, it’s going to be rough right now because Antonia will come after you. She will purposely have stories leaked to humiliate you. She will dig into your past. I thought it would be easier to insulate you during this time, so maybe she can get over herself. While it will never be easy to be in the spotlight, I thought if she wasn’t so fixated on me, it wouldn’t be as horrible for you.”
Roman is quiet for a moment. “What if we beat her to the punch?”
“What do you mean?”
“We go out in public. If someone happens to post a pic of it, we’ve taken the wind out of her attacks on you with something else for the public to talk about. That Her Royal Highness,” he says, stroking my face, “has a love interest. That’s more interesting than any rubbish she can say about you. I saw the headlines about you today after you hung up. It is bullshit that they came after you like that, when you’ve done nothing but work so hard on behalf of your organisations. And you jealous of Clementine? It’s absurd. But our story? It’s real.”
I take in his words. I never thought about taking the discovery of Roman away from Antonia.
Then I realise what he is offering to me.
He’s willing to put himself through the hell of the tabloid press, of social media comments and attacks, to make my situation easier.
“Do you understand what you are offering to do?” I ask, searching his eyes. “The sword you are going to fall on for me?”
“You’re wrong,” Roman says, his eyes growing dark. “It’s not a sword. Showing the world what we have is not a sacrifice. It’s an honour to be able to say you’re my girl. Not Your Royal Highness. But my girl. Because you have been since that day we sat on the floor of the greenhouse.”
He kisses me, lightly brushing his lips against mine. Tears stain my cheeks, and I can’t believe what Roman is willing to do for me.
He steps back and brushes away my tears with his calloused fingertips, ones that feel rough against my skin. “Whatever you want to do,” he says softly. “This choice is yours.”
I think on this briefly, but as I stare up into the face of the man I love, I know what I need to do. “You always said the world needed to see more of Angry Liz.”
Roman’s mouth begins to curve up in that teasing smile. “I did.”
“Then I think it’s time for me to leak some things to people who are favourable to me in the press. Not a tabloid, but a respectable royal reporter. Perhaps in time for the Sunday edition tomorrow.”
He rewards me with a beaming smile that takes my breath away.
“I like your style, Your Royal Highness,” he teases.
I continue to think. “Can you get off in a couple of hours? For a strategic photo op?”
“Yes, I can leave soon. I’ll get cleaned up and meet you at your place.”
I slide my hands up to his face. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a headline in mind for this photo?” Roman teases.
“The gardener and the princess. I love the sound of that.”
“Me, too,” he says, dropping another kiss on my lips.
“I should let you get back to work,” I say, staring at the branches.
“Yeah, I’ve got to pick up the slack for Grandfather, who ran off with Jillian and texted me to say he’s taking the rest of the afternoon off.”
“Really?” I ask, loving this bit of information.
“Apparently us Lawlers have a thing for elegant ladies,” Roman says, bending over to pick up his tool.
“Yes. I’m the image of elegance flopping out of a headstand,” I say dryly.
He chuckles. “I was thinking of you in that evening gown, but you did manage that flop with spectacular style.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I tease.
“The kicking of the water bottle into the woman’s bum in front of you was a spectacular finish.”
Now I blush, and Roman winks at me.
I seriously love this man.
I clear my throat. “What are you pruning back here?” I ask.
“Grape vines,” he says. “This is the only thing I prune in December. But there’s something kind of beautiful about the bare vines, the simplicity of them, knowing they will bear fruit in the season.”
I gently place my hand against one. “I love seeing the earth through your eyes. You see possibility and growth in the land.”
Roman wraps his hand over mine. “I see possibilities everywhere right now,” he says.
I see the adoration in his eyes, and I’m absolutely breathless.
This man, this incredible man, is falling in love with me.
And I can’t wait to share our love story with the world.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask.
Roman watches me from my bed as I pull m
y hair up into a topknot. “To take a walk around Kensington Palace Gardens with you? I’ve been looking forward to it, despite the fact that it’s gloomy this afternoon.”
I bite on my lip as I tuck my locks into place. Doubt about our plan to beat Antonia to the punch has come back to the surface.
Because after our conversation next to the grape vines, fear began to creep into my heart. I know Roman says he doesn’t care, but how can he not? Not when the nasty, rude, insulting things about him are put online and in print for anyone in the world to read. I know he says his feelings for me are greater than that, but I also know feelings can change. Especially when they are tried by public opinion and the restrictive rules that govern the world I live in.
Roman glances up at me and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Lizzie, don’t worry about me. I don’t care.”
I sink down next to him on the bed, my stomach twisted into an anxious knot. “I know you don’t,” I say, placing my hand on his thigh, feeling his muscular leg against my palm through the fabric of his jeans. “But even putting the press aside, you’re entering my world, with family rows and screaming matches. There are rules for everything when you are inside the palace. I… I don’t want to lose you because of what comes along with being with me.”
Roman places his hand over mine and lifts it to his lips, brushing them sweetly across my knuckles. “I’ll tell you a million times over. I’m not worried about any of this. The media attention I can handle. Now, will I be nervous the first time I attend any kind of dinner with you? Of course. But I would be nervous meeting your parents if your name was Liz Smith, because you matter, and what they think matters. That’s what will make me nervous.”
I love this man so much.
“I had Amelia tip off the reporter I trust so she has the exclusive. I told her to say that we walk in the park late in the afternoon. Vivian said she would send a photographer out and have the story ready to hit Sunday’s paper.”