Royal Love

by Cristiane Serruya

  “I…Ihornchin?” In his voice, it sounded strong, refined; in hers, it was laughable at best.

  “Nein, nein. Eich-hörn-chen.”

  “Eirhormchen.”

  Ewan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You must pronounce it just as I do.”

  Siobhan shook her head. “Unless you are going to implant your voice box in my body, I will never pronounce it like you do. Can’t I just pretend I’m mute?”

  Ewan stared at her open-mouthed for a second and, to her surprise, burst into laughter. “You are not like the others that have been around the king, are you?”

  She smiled. “That is an understatement.”

  They shared a smile and she saw some of his stern qualities thaw before her eyes. “Perhaps we will work on your greeting then. Your German accent will come with time.”

  Siobhan tapped her finger against her lips. “Perhaps I could give them all nicknames, like Hörn. I might even start a new trend.”

  Ewan nearly spit out the water he was sipping, the light in his eyes friendly and brimming with laughter. “You, my dear, are going to shake things up around here.”

  Siobhan sighed. “That’s what I am afraid of.”

  By the time the lunch hour approached, Siobhan had amassed quite a list of things she should and shouldn’t do, and a pile of books she should read on etiquette and lineage.

  “That’s it for today.” With a delicate sigh, Ewan sank gracefully into an armchair—which had Siobhan making another note in her notebook—and opened his leather covered agenda. “Tomorrow, we’ll begin working on your posture and walking.”

  Siobhan immediately straightened herself in the chair, earning another smile from the man.

  “The royal optician will measure you for contact lenses and I’ll schedule a haircut, manicure, and pedicure with the royal hairdresser.”

  Royal hairdresser? “God! I don’t have to wear my hair like Catriona’s, do I?”

  “The Dowager Princess’s”—he corrected her without even looking up from what he was scribbling in his agenda— “hairstyle is quite alluring. But, nein, you can choose your own style. In fact, you won’t give Marie much work. All you need is a…bit of polish.”

  “Thank God,” she muttered.

  “And we are going to schedule a session for the engagement photographs and we could start overseeing the wedding preparations.” He stopped writing and lifted his eyes to stare at her. “You do know how to waltz, right?”

  “No,” Siobhan groaned.

  “Royalty doesn’t groan.” Ewan clutched his tongue twice when she was about to let out a huff. “Also, no huffs or puffs. Moodiness won’t win you any favors.”

  She gave him a bland smile. I wonder what will…

  As soon as Ewan was out of Siobhan’s rooms, Fiona was back in, not without making certain Ewan was really not there.

  Throughout the tour of the palace, Fiona kept up a steady conversation. Siobhan’s head spun through most of it, but she tried to focus when people’s names were mentioned.

  Fiona chattered all the way downstairs about where they were going to go shopping, while Siobhan scanned her lavish surroundings with all the apprehension of an ordinary person suddenly waking up to find themselves lost in a royal palace.

  But the instant her insecurity was ready to rise, she crushed it flat and refused to acknowledge those feelings. Angus’s palace was where she was going to bring her baby up and the last thing her child needed was a mother who lacked self-esteem.

  As they reached the foot of the stairs the butler addressed her in English, to her relief. “The Dowager Princess would like a word with you before you go out, miss.”

  Fiona showed Siobhan into an elegant room where Catriona and her sister-in-law, Aileen, awaited her, but instead of following her in, she retreated and closed the door, leaving the three of them alone.

  “Siobhan…” Angus’s mother greeted her with an acerbic smile. “Angus asked me to have a word with you about the household arrangements. He doesn’t think you’ll be up to taking charge immediately, so I agreed to continue the job until you feel able.”

  “Okay,” she said, uncertain. Faced with that vote of no confidence from her fiancé while at the same time not knowing exactly what she was supposed to do, Siobhan felt cornered.

  “Angus expects his home to run like clockwork. Dealing with the staff and the catering for a house as large as this one is a complex task,” Catriona pointed out. “Innes had the benefit of growing up in a similar home and knew exactly what was required.”

  With a bright smile that refused to betray an ounce of nervous tension, Siobhan lifted her chin. “I’m sure I’ll rise to the challenge.”

  “I’m impressed by your confidence.”

  Fed up with the woman’s subtle put-downs, Siobhan lifted her head high. “I can understand your son’s sudden engagement has come as a shock to you and I have no wish to be on bad terms with you. But this is my home now and I intend to adjust—”

  “But you will never be the wife whom my nephew needs,” Aileen exclaimed with a contemptuous sound of disgust. “You will never belong here as Innes did. A waitress!”

  “Aileen is right. You’ll only be an embarrassment to my son.” Catriona fluffed her extravagant white hair and, as if she were commenting on the weather, said, “We know you threw yourself at Angus from the first moment you saw him.”

  “Where on earth did you get that idea from?” Siobhan cut in, anger betraying her determination to stay firmly in control no matter the provocation.

  “One of my oldest friends was at the Forsythe wedding,” Aileen answered. “She witnessed your first meeting with Angus Augustus and saw you for what you are—a scheming, gold-digging little tramp!”

  “Don’t stress yourself, Aileen,” Catriona patted her sister-in-law’s hand. “Angus will soon tire of her.”

  Cut to the bone by the older women’s verbal abuse, Siobhan went rigid. “Your friend is delusional, my lady, and—”

  “Your Royal Highness is the correct form, Miss Faulkner,” interrupted Aileen.

  Siobhan could feel the heat crawl over her neck and face. It was not from shame, but anger. “Well, ma’am, since I am a waitress, I wouldn’t know such lowness in a person could also be a highness, could I?”

  She turned and stomped out of the room, banging the door behind her for good measure, and passing her arm through Fiona’s, she said, “Come on. I have a sudden itch to spend some royal pain-in-the-ass’s money.”

  A stunned footman opened the door to her and bowed.

  If Angus’s mother and aunt thought Siobhan Faulkner was going to bend or be made into a laughing stock, they were very, very wrong.

  When Fiona asked what happened with Catriona, Siobhan said that she’d talk about it later. For now, she wanted to enjoy the fresh air blowing around her in Fiona’s convertible. Fiona parked on a small square surrounded by banks, on which Lekten Royal Bank was the main building, and took her to a small, almost hidden restaurant in tiny transversal. The chef was delighted to serve them and, when Siobhan requested something light, he prepared a wonderful vegetarian meal—a cheesy pasta dish with apple sauce—even though it wasn't on the menu, and served it himself in a gorgeous copper pan.

  When it came to shopping, Fiona knew what she was doing—and everyone in Lekten knew her.

  She took Siobhan to the most expensive shops on the main street—not that there were much shops to choose from—where all the sales assistants fussed over them, offering only the very best, and then she took Siobhan to a very exclusive place, where the clothes cost more than a few month’s rent. Who on earth thought that designer jeans should cost so much? Still, Fiona forced her to try on a few things and Siobhan quietly chose bigger sizes than normal, knowing that she didn’t have long before her own clothes would no longer fit her properly.

  Siobhan stared at her image in the mirror as she put her clothes back on. Her belly was starting to show, just a little round bump, but her beautiful C-s
ized breasts were now in serious need of new bras. If this keeps going, I will be a size G when this baby is born.

  “Do you need anything else?”

  She almost said no, but her tingling and super-sensitive breasts needed better support. “Underwear.”

  “Of course.” Fiona giggled with a knowing smile. “I know just the place.”

  The sale attendant rang up the purchases and grinned when Siobhan extended the brand new Black American Express Angus had left for her on her bedside table.

  And then Fiona took Siobhan to a lingerie shop, one that had more lace than Siobhan had ever seen. Most of the items there were meant to entice, and while she would have loved to buy a thing or two for her drawer, Siobhan knew it would be a waste of money right now. “Hmm, Fiona?”

  Fiona giggled as she held up a lace teddy, fiery red in color and missing the complete back half. “This will drive Angus mad.”

  She pulled Fiona inside the changing room, away from the prying eyes and ears of the other customers. “Look, can you keep a secret?”

  Fiona looked a bit uneasy, as if she had never been asked that question before. “I-I guess.”

  “Promise?”

  Fiona nodded.

  “I need pregnancy underwear.”

  “Preg—”

  “Shhh!” She put a hand over Fiona’s mouth. “No one knows! This must remain a secret.”

  Fiona nodded and Siobhan let her hand fall. “Not even Angus knows?”

  “Of course, he knows.” Siobhan rolled her eyes at Fiona. “But I need your help. That palace is a pit of snakes.”

  “That Ewan—Gah—the man is—”

  “He’s not so bad,” Siobhan replied, thinking of the lessons she had been forced to undertake with Ewan a few hours ago. “Once you get to know him.”

  Fiona shuddered. “If you say so. He hit my hand with a spoon one time when I reached across a table to grab a roll. Can you imagine?”

  Siobhan chuckled. She could imagine it. “So, I can trust you with this?”

  “Oh,” Fiona said, her eyes growing soft as she looked at Siobhan’s stomach. “Of course. How exciting! I’m sure Angus is thrilled. I will do whatever you need me to and your secret is safe with me.”

  Siobhan gave her a quick hug, glad that she had gained another ally in the house. It was hard enough to be ripped away from everything she knew and being thrust into this sort of spotlight, while pregnant of all things. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Fiona gave her a soft smile, returning her hug.

  “It’s good to have a friend.”

  “Kerr is also an excellent butler and he’s been serving our family for decades. All you need to do is ask his help.” Fiona squeezed Siobhan’s hand and offered her a friendly smile. “Don’t let yourself be intimidated by Mother and Aunt Catriona.”

  They giggled and discretely picked out more appropriate undergarments for Siobhan’s condition, Fiona even purchasing them herself so that it would not raise any suspicion. Unable to help herself, Siobhan purchased the red teddy for later, knowing that the color would be as intense as the heat in Angus’s eyes when he saw her in it.

  “I’m starving,” Siobhan remarked as they exited the store. “Can we get a snack?”

  Fiona linked arms with her, guiding her to a small coffee shop around the corner. “They have the best pastries here.”

  The women sat at one of the cozy bistro tables and the waiter put their pastries along with their coffee on the table. Siobhan nearly devoured the two she had picked out in a matter of minutes. Fiona chatted the entire time, taking only a pause for a sip of her coffee and soon their conversation turned to the family.

  “Mother blames Uncle Augustus for lowering himself to marrying Aunt Catriona.” Fiona sighed. “Not that she did much better herself, but you know…it’s easier to speak badly of others and Mother has always found a handy person to blame. All of us struggled as a result but I’ve made my peace with it—we are a completely dysfunctional family that, God forbid, should get help.”

  Siobhan silently agreed.

  With a sad grimace, Fiona told her what she knew of her uncle and aunt’s dysfunctional marriage and a bit about Angus’s past. With a grin, she finished, “I am so happy Angus has found love for a change.”

  Siobhan forced a happy smile onto her lips. “So am I.”

  But has he found love? I’ll be happy too, if he does.

  25

  Lenox Palace, The King’s Office

  Friday, March 18, 2016

  11:30 a.m.

  “I’ve just looked through the documents sent by Herr Brunhart’s office.” Angus shuffled a stack of papers on his desk, aligning and putting them in an envelope and handing them to Ewan.

  “The ones pertaining to the block of residential buildings near the Romani village?”

  “Yes. Deeds, mortgages, contractor’s agreements, and so forth.” He gave Ewan a dark glance. “But there’s not one piece of paper in that entire file that bears the owner’s name. Brunhart should know better than to expect me to buy property without knowing who’s selling it.”

  Ewan frowned. “I would have thought it was legally required for the owner’s name to be listed.”

  “There are ways around it.” Angus nodded toward the file in his aide-de-camp’s hands. “The mortgage wasn’t financed by a bank, but through a loan from an off-shore company. According to the deed, the property is owned by a private investment company. I’d bet it’s being held in trust for an unnamed party.”

  “Why would someone go to such trouble instead of buying it in his own name?”

  “For many reasons. For one, to keep the asking price from going down. And I have business adversaries who would enjoy putting me in my place now and then, by denying me something I want by asking through-the-roof prices. Likely, this man’s reasons are similar. I want his name because I am buying that land and I will be reforming it to integrate it to the Romani Village. They need a new school, a library…a family clinic there would also be convenient.”

  “Wouldn’t Herr Brunhart be willing to tell you, if you asked him directly?”

  Angus shook his head. “He would have told me already. I suspect he knows it would ruin the deal if I found out.”

  “Shall I give this information to the same PI we hired to research Ms. Faulkner's past?”

  Angus was startled at that. He had forgotten he had asked Ewan to investigate Siobhan’s past. “Yes, he’ll do.”

  As Ewan left his office, his thoughts turned to Siobhan.

  Each night he and Siobhan indulged their lusts. He’d experienced more pleasure at her inexperienced hands than he had in the decade before.

  He could get used to that—if he wasn’t careful.

  Every time he touched her, he would take more. He exercised his control to a whole new level, keeping her on the brink until she was screaming and begging, craving the sensation of being filled by him. He trained her body to hunger for his.

  Conditioning.

  If the situation had been reversed, this would have been the way to make him want more. He knew he was playing for more now, though he didn’t understand precisely what he wanted from her.

  And after making love, he attempted to get her to sleep against him instead of balled up in that way that made his chest feel uncomfortable.

  If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be fighting to make a woman cling to him in sleep, he’d have laughed.

  Yet she remained unfaltering in her resolution of not marrying him for material reasons.

  And they talked.

  He would have been content to hear only about her, but she’d been surprisingly curious about his past. He found himself revealing things he never had to anyone, yet feeling unburdened from it.

  He’d told her of his father and how proud he was; and about his mother sending him to a boarding school and not allowing him to come back, but for his father’s funeral and his own crowning, just to dispatch him once she was dee
med the reigning sovereign until he reached the age of eighteen.

  Siobhan’s eyes watered as he spoke of the gut-wrenching decision to let him be raised by strangers in a faraway land, in an atmosphere absent of love and family, where no one was tucked in by loving hands, or had a bedtime story read to them. Children educated and trained to be leaders, while never being taught the most valuable trait a good leader needed: compassion.

  It’s no great mystery he has issues when it comes to love.

  And again, a month ago, Angus would have laughed at the notion of marriage, of settling down. Now it was all he could think of. No, I will win her.

  There was no other option.

  But with every passing day, a disquieting thought grew: did he want Siobhan if she did not want him? Was it enough to win her loyalty if he did not win her heart as well?

  Odd thoughts for a man who had never considered a woman’s heart before. A man who’d always enjoyed the pleasures of a woman’s body but never appreciated her soul or her spirit. A man who knew only the value of the prize and never the worth of the quest.

  And Siobhan and the child she carried were a prize beyond measure.

  As if his thoughts conjured her, Siobhan appeared in the doorway.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting…”

  “No, come on in. I have finished the paperwork and I need to do some outside visits today.”

  As she drew closer, he could see the paleness of her features. The shadows under her eyes. She even looked as though she’d lost weight when she should be putting it on.

  With sudden guilt, he realized the past several days had been far more stressful for her than they had been for him. She could probably use a break from the palace.

  Angus knew just the place for a local getaway. He had to pay more attention to how she was doing, and remember this was a huge adjustment for her, going from a small house in a Londoner quiet suburb with one other person and a cat, to this enormous palace and all of its staff and visitors. She could not only get lost inside it, but might also feel invisible at times; insignificant, despite being his fiancée. He needed to tend to her as much as he did to the country’s businesses and his banking, if he was to ever get her to change her mind about marriage.