Royal Love

by Cristiane Serruya

  Lektenstaten, Romani Village

  10:00 p.m.

  They all sat around the large table in Mircea Romani’s home, the lingering smell of supper still heavy in the air. The children had long since been put to bed and now they were all enjoying a glass of fine wine.

  “Do you think it will pass?” Mircea asked, as he lifted his glass, admiring the liquid in the cut crystal. “Do you think we could be changing the shape of the government?”

  Javert shrugged, his eyes on the amber liquid glowing from the light of the fire. “Perhaps.” He chuckled. “You do not have much faith in your own self, Mircea. I hope that will change.”

  “Of course, it will,” Diamanta retorted with a laugh. “Have some faith, my son. The true ruler will be on his throne soon, and the world will change as we know it. Mircea is the perfect Roma to be representing our culture.”

  Javert gave her a look. “That is a fairly large declaration from you, Mother. Do you know something we do not? A vision perhaps?”

  Diamanta laughed. “I only speak the truth. It will warm an old woman’s heart to see what will happen this year.”

  Claudia smiled as her husband’s hand brushed across her upper thigh, sending goosebumps over her skin. His touch always did that to her and she imagined it always would. “While it will be a win for our people, I can only hope the rest of the world will see it as such.”

  “We have been silent far too long,” Javert said softly, his eyes staring at the fire. “We have allowed others to rule us for too long.”

  “Yes,” Diamanta urged, her voice growing louder. “Mircea will be what this Parliament needs.”

  Mircea chuckled, placing his empty glass on the table. “I am grateful for the support and can only hope to live up to the hype you are creating, Diamanta.”

  She gave him a smile, lifting her glass in his direction. “I have faith you will be Prime Minister.”

  They all laughed and raised their own glasses to Mircea, who gave them a mocking bow in retort as he stood. “I shall leave for my bed as there is too much to be done to convince the people we Romani should be the ones leading this country.”

  “By the way, I met our king a few days ago,” said Javert, and all eyes converted to him. “I was in Zürich, delivering a necklace to Mrs. Zabiew—the optician’s wife, you know—and he was there buying new glasses for his fiancée. He ordered a set of pearls and one of diamonds for her from me.”

  “Oh, yes, I saw them on the news. She’s beautiful and has the looks of a common woman,” interjected Claudia. “I don’t mean this in a bad way. She looks like one of us.”

  “She was very polite but for sure she’s not from money or royalty,” confirmed Javert. “I even found Angus to be more relaxed around her. He said he will also order her engagement ring from my shop.”

  Diamanta snorted. “If you start believing Braxton-Lenox promises, you might end up poor. Or dead.”

  Mircea frowned at her bitter tone. “Diamanta, times have changed. His Majesty is not like his father, or his grandfather.”

  “Their blood runs in his veins,” she replied.

  “True, but if he was so much like them, he would not be marrying this girl.”

  Diamanta fixed her black eyes on Mircea for a long minute. “Only time will tell.”

  20

  Braxton-Lenox Mountain House

  11:00 p.m.

  “We’ll do this again soon, I’m sure.” She gave Jaxon a long, tight hug.

  “I can’t wait.” He let go of her. “You be good now, and serve your king well.”

  They both laughed, and Jaxon kissed her forehead, before turning and following his escort out to be flown home.

  Siobhan had really enjoyed Jaxon’s visit and was surprised at herself for not being sad when it was time for him to go home. Perhaps it was because she now knew it was not a big deal to Angus to have Jaxon flown out. And Jaxon loved the flying. Maybe she could ask Angus to have him picked up sometime in a helicopter as a special treat.

  Jumani closed the door after Jaxon entered the car which would take him to board the jet and Siobhan let out a sigh. She was in a very good mood after her visit, and Angus was being very agreeable.

  “Do you want a night-cap before we retire to bed?” Angus suggested to Siobhan.

  “Well, yes.” She didn’t want the night to end. She liked him when he wasn’t ordering her around. Maybe too much.

  He offered her his arm and they climbed the stairs to the family room and sat on the sofa facing the glass wall.

  When Jumani left after bringing tea and the tiny chocolate chip cookies Esmeralda had been baking by the ton after discovering they were Siobhan’s favorites to have with tea, Siobhan turned to Angus and said, “Tell me about your life.”

  A grunt of laughter escaped him. “I want you to stay awake.”

  “I have been sleepy lately, but that just means you’ll have to keep me interested.” The embarrassing truth was that she was avid to find out about him but when he didn’t venture anything, she prompted, “Come, Angus. I’m all ears.”

  He stared at the night sky through the living room’s glass wall, thinking. “I was born.”

  “A good start.”

  He ignored her interjection. “First and only heir to the throne.”

  “Incredible luck.”

  Again, he ignored her. “I grew up. I scraped through a university degree in International Affairs and found my true calling when I earned an MBA in finance. I came back, started working in Lekten Royal Bank…oh, yes, I also became king. I’d categorize my role since then as decorative but there are non-negotiable duties and many responsibilities, although it’s hard to regret much when I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

  “And a host of women,” she muttered.

  He cast her a sideways glance but on his lips, there was a side loped smile. “Your jealousy only encourages my ambitions.”

  “Is that it?” she asked, when for a long while, the only sounds were the creak of the wood burning in the hearth.

  He took hold of her hand and squeezed. “I’m what you see. Healthy. Unmarried. No unusual vices, if too many of the usual ones. Now tell me about you.”

  Her lips pursed in disapproval. “Not yet. How many cousins do you have?”

  He released her hand and looked away. “You really want to know?”

  “I really want to know.”

  Something uncomfortable slithered around his chest. It was something he couldn’t identify and didn’t care to begin exploring.

  Without thinking, he blurted, “So, let me tell you something: the very thought of you asking Jaxon to go back made me crazed the whole night.”

  “And you would have let me go with him?”

  There they sat, gazes locked but so many unresolved issues between them.

  He put his hand over hers. “I can’t even allow myself to imagine you not coming back to me.”

  “Are you so certain I wouldn’t?”

  “Yes. I am,” he rasped.

  His tone wasn’t blaming, but more like he was explaining something regrettable but inevitable.

  She didn’t deny it, because she didn’t know if he was right. His heart sunk into his chest and excruciating pain burned through him. He couldn’t breathe because it hurt so much. The idea of her walking away from him was unthinkable.

  “I just don’t understand why you’re so adamant about marrying me. What are you so afraid of?”

  Silence fell. So pronounced she could hear them both breathing.

  “Isn’t that enough?” he finally asked. “That I’m willing to give you my name, my protection?”

  She looked at him for a moment, her eyes boring straight into his soul as if she could see something there. Of course, there wasn’t anything, though his eyes held enough emotion to make her want to break down and cry. “It’s not enough for forever, Angus.”

  His lips flattened and he pushed up to his feet walking to the glass wall, looking up into the night sky wi
thout really seeing the stars. “It is for some. Think of what you would have from a marriage to me. You would want for nothing, never worry about paying another bill or working another position. Everything would be at your fingertips.”

  “What about you?” she asked softly. “Would you be?” Would she ever hold his heart in the palm of her hand, a priceless exchange for her own? They could say the words before their family and friends, pledge themselves to each other, but Siobhan knew she would want so much more from him. It wasn’t about the material things. It was about the things that couldn’t be bought with money.

  He turned to her, arched a brow. “Would you have a king on his knees before you then?”

  She shook her head, a hapless chuckle escaping her. “I wish for nothing more than your love, Angus.”

  For Christ’s sake. Appalled she wanted to discuss matters of love with him, he turned his back to her once more before saying, without hesitation, “I can’t give you love.”

  “Why?”

  Silence fell for a long moment, interrupted only by the sounds of wood logs burning in the hearth, before he added, “It is not the stuff of poems and fairy tales.”

  “What isn’t?”

  He turned and stared in her eyes. “Love. Make no mistake.”

  When her focus snapped to him, he added, “It’s the most devastating trap there is.”

  Surprise flashed in her eyes.

  He was surprised himself, he had to admit. What in hell has me saying such a thing?

  “And you would know?” she asked.

  “I would, as a matter of fact,” he said, wondering if the dim light was addling him to the point of confession.

  “I thought the Kings of Lektenstaten did not marry for love.”

  “I am not married, am I?”

  “You were. Are you…are you still in love with your late wife?” she asked, the words coming in a shocked whisper. “Or with Caroline?”

  He frowned at her. “Who is Caroline?”

  “Lady Caroline Marine.”

  “Ah.” Memory returned. With a small smile, he shook his head and said, “No.”

  “You really should remember the women you go out with, you know,” she scowled. “So, you are not in love with Caroline Marine, and not with Innes.”

  “I am not.”

  “But you are aware of the emotion. In a personal sense.”

  Enough to know I never want it again. “Yes. I experienced it. Once.”

  A strange feeling coursed through Siobhan. “Why didn’t you marry the poor girl?”

  Memory flashed, summoned from God knew where by this woman who had a remarkable way of winning his secrets.

  He’d tried. He’d wanted to. He remembered bringing Lilian to meet his mother. To show her off. To prove to his mother, the haughty Princess Regent of Lektenstaten that love was not an impossibility.

  He’d been young and stupid.

  And his mother had ruined it for him: I’d rather you never marry at all than marry some cheap trollop in it only for your title and wealth.

  Catriona accused his declaration of love for Lilian of being a joke—a cruel joke, designed only to hurt his loving mother. After she gave the girl a piece of her mind, Catriona had asked Lilian to give them some privacy, so the girl waited out on the balcony. Angus had run to his room to retrieve the promise ring he had planned to give to Lilian under completely different, romantic circumstances. And when he returned to the main room, his mother told him that Lilian had fallen off the balcony to her death.

  He remembered the way his heart had pounded as he’d pursued her, winning first her friendship, and then her heart. All that was left was to marry her. And love her. To love her enough to spit in his mother’s face.

  And then he stopped remembering, before he could remember his mother shrugging and saying it was not meant to be, while his mind was still burning with grief at the image of Lilian’s broken body splayed out on the concrete.

  He looked up at Siobhan, almost invisible now in the darkness which had fallen in the room. The darkness making the story easier to tell. “I can’t marry her.”

  “Is it because of me and the baby?”

  It was strange, the way her voice—and her concern—curled around him in the darkness. Curious. Comforting.

  “Because she is dead.”

  She shot forward at the words, and though it was too dark to see, he could hear the movement of her skirts, feel the heat of her in the small space.

  “Oh my God, Angus,” she whispered, and then her hands were on him, clumsily searching in the darkness. Landing on his thigh before she righted herself. He caught them and pulled her to his lap, wishing he could see her face and at the same time grateful he could not see her face when she repeated the words. “Dear God. Angus. I am so sorry.”

  She is dead, and my mother killed her. She is dead, and I killed her. He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. Truthfully, the only reason why I told you was because you asked why. My mother—” he started, then stopped. Instead, he laughed humorlessly. “Suffice to say, I don’t want the Dowager Princess to have anything at all to do with any relationship of mine, ever again.”

  She paused, considering the horrifying words. “Were you ever happy?” she whispered.

  You’re a fool, Siobhan Faulkner. A beautiful fool. A man can have money and a title—or happiness. Never all three. “I can give you—and our child—all the material comforts you may dream of. I can promise you my loyalty. I mean that. I want only to be with you. If we marry, you will be the only woman in my life. We’re good in bed, so that should not be a sacrifice. I am ready to compromise, for the sake of our child.”

  “I understand, Angus. What you’ve been through is—okay, I actually don’t understand. I can’t even imagine. But at least everything makes more sense. Thank you for sharing that with me.” She felt for him, even grieved for his loss. She could scarcely blame him for not compromising with love, but she also had a life, and a past, and a future she wanted. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to achieve a measure of calm. “I just can’t settle for a loveless relationship like the one you’re offering.”

  “I want my child safe,” he gritted out.

  “So do I. I love this baby already. I’ve lain awake at night imagining its future. I’d never do anything that wasn’t in his or her best interests.”

  “Then marry me and let me take care of you both. I need you to be safe. Protected from…everything. Will you let me do that?”

  And Siobhan found she couldn’t answer. She wanted him. She liked him. If he’d been any other man, she’d have taken him. But marrying him would put her in front of not just a few people, but the entire country. And with him at her side, they would all be looking. She felt ill just thinking about the press digging on her past.

  She looked away. “I need more time.”

  “Then have it.” He flashed her a smile; a confident smile. A smile that said he knew she wouldn’t turn him down. “Think it through from all angles. Consider your strategies, if you must. Whatever it is you must do to feel secure.”

  “If I agreed to this, I could never respect myself. If I have a daughter, I want her to know she never has to settle for second best or nothing at all. If I’m going to teach her to be strong and resilient and self-reliant, I can hardly have settled in my own life.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Move in with me. If you won’t marry me so my child has my name, then at least move in with me so you’re both provided for.”

  She wondered if he even realized he was nearly pleading with her. As vehement as he was he could never give her what she wanted or needed from a relationship, he seemed just as determined to tie her to him.

  She let her hand slide down his arm until she caught his fingers and laced them with hers.

  Angus released his breath in a slow hiss of frustration. It took all of his will power not to succumb to his desire and kiss her.

  His was an offer o
f friendship, one that warmed her even as it left her bereft on the inside. They could have so much more. She ached for more.

  But it was something at least.

  Maybe all she’d ever have from him. God knew, she could do a lot worse.

  She looked down at her hand, cradled in his. Then she turned it over so that their palms pressed together and their fingers interlaced in a tight clasp. “Angus, you know nothing about me. Even I, myself, don’t know everything there is to know about me. Starting with my father, for example.”

  “What’s your father’s story?”

  Her face looked stricken. “That’s just it, Angus. I have no idea. I don’t even know what he was called. Based on the evidence, I can presume he had sex with my mother, and that he was virile enough to impregnate her. Neither my grandmother, nor my mother ever told me a thing about him. For all I know, he may have been a good man who was hit by a bus hours after making me, or he could’ve been a rapist and I’m lucky to have been born, rather than aborted.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment. “Wouldn’t you want to know things like this before entering a marriage with someone? Maybe we can agree on living in the same place, but the idea of marriage is just unreal to me.”

  “Well…I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

  He wasn’t always the overbearing man she had seen on more than one occasion. The earnestness in his eyes, the tenderness there, it was everything she’d ever wanted in a relationship.

  No matter how unorthodox this one had turned out to be. She could do worse, Siobhan thought, as she looked at his handsome features. Besides, if she went back home, what kind of life would she have there? Angus would no doubt still be part of their child’s life but she would have to watch him move on without her, potentially finding another woman for his future. The thought made her slightly nauseous. He was hers, no matter how angry he made her, no matter his demands on her life now that she was carrying his child.

  He was hers and there was only one way for her to ensure it stayed that way. Her talk with Jaxon had brought a great deal to light for her and Siobhan knew deep down Angus had touched way more than just her womb.