Royal Love

by Cristiane Serruya

  Siobhan was speechless. “I thought you were just humoring me. But you really did it.”

  He dropped his hand and shrugged. “It’s important to me that you are happy.”

  She looked at him, her heart hammering against her chest. The mere thought of creating her jewelry again had her beyond excited,

  Siobhan was impressed. He did seem to care about what she might want. “Am I high-maintenance?”

  She sounded remorseful, which wouldn’t do. He gave her buttocks a possessive squeeze. “Aye, but you’re high-output as well.”

  “Angus!” she cried, chuckling.

  He had just pulled her down on the bed when a formal knock at the door interrupted them. “Who on earth can it be now?”

  Exhaling a sigh, Angus rose from the bed and opened the door to Jumani.

  “The Dowager Princess came calling and she’s waiting for you downstairs, Sir.”

  Hell… “Show her to the family room, please. We’ll be there in a moment.”

  “Angus, before we see her, can we talk for a minute? It’s important, and I’ve been putting it off, but I can’t any longer.”

  The drastic change in tone from before Jumani’s knock concerned him. “What is it, Angel?”

  Siobhan worked to gather her thoughts, refreshing her memory of Catriona telling her that Angus didn’t think she could run the household, and then telling her that she’d never fit in the way Innes did. But she didn’t want to sound like she was jealous about Innes. This was about living in a house with someone who hated her, and didn’t hesitate to make her disgust clearly known to her.

  Siobhan turned away from him for a moment. With the sting of tears making her blink rapidly, she willed herself not to cry because she was pretty sure that he probably didn’t do crying along with hysterics. And it would underscore Catriona’s opinion that she was no Innes, apparently strong and capable of everything.

  “You were saying?”

  Siobhan, lost in her thoughts, had almost forgotten what she had been saying. She focused her eyes on the man sitting next to her on the sofa and blinked.

  “Your mother…Catriona said something and I need you to clarify.”

  “Get to the point, Siobhan.”

  Is he being understandably impatient because I’m waffling, or are these just the signs of how things will be after the honeymoon is over?

  “She said that she was…responsible for the coordination...”

  “And so she is. Are we going somewhere with this, or is it just the circles thing?”

  “She said that you had spoken to her…told her that I wouldn’t be able to run the household. Not the way Innes did...

  Bitterness had crept into her voice, and Angus’s face darkened.

  “I said you would not be able to immediately. And Innes never came up.”

  “Okay, but to your mother’s way of thinking, I’ll never be able to because I’m just an intruding pauper who’s not only not up to the task, not qualified for it, but also only here for your money.”

  The words were wrenched out of her and spoken straight from the heart. She’d intended to say more, but couldn’t, as she broke into tears.

  Damn her to hell. “Listen to me, Angel. My wicked mother speaks only for herself. You should know I share none of her opinions. And I never—are you listening? —I never compare you to Innes, or anyone else, for that matter.”

  Siobhan wiped her eyes and looked at him. “But she’s right. I can’t manage a palace. And what’s worse, I don’t even want to learn such a thing. I’m an artist, not an administrator. I could never be a suitable wife for a king, even if I did agree to marry you.”

  “Say no more. It will never be your responsibility. I can hire someone else to do it, if you wish. You need not ever worry about the burden becoming yours.”

  Siobhan’s tears began anew. How can he seem to care so much, and try so hard, and be so off the mark? “I don’t care about the damned household administration, Angus. I’m talking about your mother! Don’t you see?”

  His eyebrow lowered as he frowned at her, confused. “I’m afraid I don’t. I thought household administration was what we are talking about.”

  “I’m talking about living under the same roof with a woman who despises me and reminds me of it at every opportunity. Would you have your wife be the victim of her daggers on a daily basis as long as the house runs like clockwork? I’m talking about how hard it is for me to live here, and how Catriona makes it not only difficult, but painful as well. I struggle with the fact that you don’t love me, but on top of that, I have to deal with her hating me. Viciously hating me, Angus. Could you live with your worst enemy?”

  Now that she’d finally gotten it all out, she had nothing more to say. She cried freely, having exposed the source of her worst daily pain. Now it was up to Angus to show her, or not, how much he really cared.

  Angus wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her hair and whispering what he hoped were solutions.

  “I’m sorry, Angel. I should’ve known. I should’ve done something. And I will. I’ll go talk to her while you wait here. And I’m going to lay down the law with her. I was outraged by the reporters throwing darts at you, while inside my own home, my mother has been throwing knives. I’m sorry. And, I will find someone to replace her. I will hire someone to run this house, and relieve her of that duty.” And I need to ask her to leave.

  11:05 p.m.

  There was never anything like real stars in London. Just a few of the brightest constellations and the lights of planes overhead.

  She tilted her head up, marveling at the night sky.

  “I don’t know why anyone thinks looking at the stars is so romantic,” he said.

  “Have they ever read Greek mythology? It’s all the same story—God sees mortal, God desires mortal, mortal suffers gruesome fate and is rewarded with an eternity of pain in the cosmos.”

  He shrugged. “You could always make up your own stories.”

  But she was already shaking her head. “No. Those stories are written in stardust millions of years old. I don’t think I get to change them.”

  “Then I’m thankful for light pollution,” he said.

  She made a little noise, something close to a giggle, and it set off a cascade of desire in him.

  He put his hands behind his head and cupped his nape. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after the baby is born?”

  She cocked her head to look at him and felt him jolt as she accidentally pressed against a sore place on his side.

  “You hurt more than your shoulder,” she said in worry.

  Angus let out a scraping laugh. “Angel, I haven’t a single moving part that doesn’t ache.” He struggled to a sitting position and propped his back against the headboard. Closing his eyes, he let out an unsteady breath and tried to accommodate the multitude of pains that assailed him—more specifically the one between his legs.

  “What do you need?” Siobhan asked urgently. “What can I do?”

  A few locks of heavy dark hair had tumbled over his forehead, and she stroked them back with tender fingertips. His lashes lifted, and she found herself staring into hot, golden eyes.

  “You can marry me.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Angus. Are we back at this?” She shook her head and clasped her hands in her lap. “You know nothing about me.”

  “The best part of marriage is all the things you discover after the vows are spoken. And I know more about you than you think.”

  “Oh?” She waited for some flippant reply. But his expression was serious as he studied her.

  “You love your family, and you’re loyal to your friends. You’re very clever. You have a romantic streak, but you do your best to repress it. You consider yourself a sensible woman—and most of the time, that’s true. You have a dry sense of humor, and the ability to mock yourself and the pomposity of others. How am I doing?”

  Some women might find it flattering that an attractive man pai
d such minute attention. Siobhan was uneasy. The woman he described was better than she was. The resemblance was unmistakable but it wasn’t her. But it was certainly a version of her that she liked a lot.

  “You make me sound as if I have no faults,” she said gruffly.

  His smile conveyed too much affection for a man who had said he couldn’t give her love. “I make you sound like you’re perfect for me. I saw immediately that you were something special. And I, my dear Siobhan, am a connoisseur.”

  Are you? She stared back, both fascinated and appalled. “And if I fall in love with you? Is it going to be anathema?”

  “No,” he said swiftly, and looked away from her. There was a slight rasp to his words, when he faced her again. “No. That would be perfectly…unobjectionable.”

  From his words, she might have thought him uncaring. But that catch in his voice and the way he tilted his head toward her again, gave the lie to his indifference.

  He looked at her like a thirsty man gazing on an oasis, trying to decide if it were an illusion brought on by the heat. It made a sudden, impossible sense of everything.

  He doesn’t want a loveless marriage. He’s just resigned himself to one.

  11:59 p.m.

  She couldn’t see it in the dark, but the Lektenstaten flag flapped in the wind, announcing the dragon was there, reigning over the kingdom.

  And so was she, formidable as ever, just like the dragon. She had stayed alive this long by using her ability to predict her adversaries’ moves.

  She knew how they would behave, oftentimes even before they did, thanks to her ability to read the stars and the cards.

  Her life was an endless chess match, a calculated march taking her ever closer to her endgame—of a kingdom seized and retribution delivered.

  Now, she was staring at the silent cards, which didn’t tell her what futures were possibilities. She gazed out to the sky, but the stars were also mute.

  But that wouldn’t impede her to chase the dragon away.

  She was already friends with Fiona, and she would use the gullible girl to put her plans in motion.

  This situation could get tricky if Fiona got in the way and was hurt. She had no desire to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.

  But then, she wasn’t above casting away a pawn if she was to put the king in check.

  29

  Lenox Palace

  Saturday, March 26, 2016

  9:35 a.m.

  “A weekend with plenty of sunshine confirms the spring has arrived to stay.” The weather forecasting reporter in the TV smiled at her audience and then said, “Back to you, Kristen.”

  “Lovely,” Angus said, turning the TV off. “We needed some relief.”

  “Yeah,” Siobhan said, without enthusiasm.

  Angus studied her a moment. He’d noticed the faint shadows under her eyes yesterday. It was barely ten in the morning now, and they were deeper. Is it the tone of the news? Or is it something else? Something had been nagging inside her for the last few days. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

  Siobhan opened her mouth, surprised by the question. She shut it again. Yes, I think I want to marry you. But there was nothing she could say.

  “I know something’s been eating at you lately.”

  Siobhan smiled and squeezed his hand. “Look, why don’t we go out to lunch? Like, on a date. Just the two of us?”

  “Good idea. Do you have some place in mind? Do you want to go to Paris?”

  “Not this time, Angus.” She shook her head at him, with a smile. “Ewan scheduled an appointment for me with the royal hairdresser, I should be ready by midday or so. I want you to show me your fave restaurant in Lektenstaten.”

  “Done.” He kissed her swiftly and rose, straightening his jacket. “I’ll make reservations for two o’clock.”

  “Two?”

  “I want to show you something else first. In fact, two somethings.” He smiled at her.

  She raised her brows curiously.

  He gave her another kiss, and walked to the door of their sitting room. Just before leaving her to get her hair done, he opened the door. “Don’t do anything drastic. I like you just the way you are.”

  Oh, Dragon, aren’t you sweet? His words warmed her heart. Maybe he is starting to fall for me…

  12:30 p.m.

  “I’m ready.” Her lips curved in a little smile, Siobhan entered the room and pivoted in her heels. “What do you think?”

  “You look…” His mind stretched for words. He hadn’t any compliments to translate his amazement at Siobhan’s transformation. Not the sort she deserved, at any rate, and he didn’t suppose she’d care to hear the truth: the way she looked made him feel vastly unequal, and a little bit queasy. Shall I deem her exquisite? A vision? An exquisite vision? Bah. Insipid, the lot of them. He supposed a man couldn’t go amiss with beautiful, overused as it might be.

  “I feel beautiful.” She smiled.

  Brilliant. Now, she’s stolen my word. He was starting from nothing again. It was not that she had cut her hair short, or changed its color, but there was a sophisticated air about her, a different look on her face.

  “I love these. Thank you.” She patted at the new earrings he had ordered for her a few days ago and had just arrived this morning. “They go perfectly with my new haircut.”

  He had the sudden, stupid feeling he was floating. “I’m happy to hear it.” Happy. Now, there was a word he hadn’t uttered in some time.

  “You look splendid,” she said, taking in how well his black jacket fit his broad shoulders and how the white silk scarf showcased his strong neck and handsome face.

  “So do you.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed at his lack of words. “Now, come.”

  He grabbed her hand and took her through the corridor, crossed the stairwell hall, continued to the end of the corridor where he opened a door to a suspended bridge which led to another wing of the palace.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, puzzled, when he stopped in front of the door at the other end of the bridge.

  He took the scarf from around his neck. “Close your eyes.”

  She looked at him askance, but did as told. After he put on the blindfold, he led her through the door, to the other side of the floor, turned her to face the direction he wanted, then took off the scarf. “You can open them now.”

  She stood frozen at the threshold of the floor he had transformed into an office for her. Her eyes went wide with awe as she soaked it all in.

  He gently pushed her, glad he had made her as speechless as she had turned him a few minutes ago. “Welcome to your office.”

  “Oh, Angus,” she whispered, turning around and looking at the rest of the office space. On the wall behind her, there were double doors, which she supposed led to a private entrance.

  A massive fireplace nearly as tall as Angus and as wide as her room in Jaxon’s house took up most of another wall, the Lektenstaten crest hanging over it.

  That was all that remained of the previously dark and unused section of the palace.

  It was divided into three distinct sections—a showroom, a lounge, and a custom appointment area with a large desk for her—ensuring that each space flowed from one to the other, separated only by soft and luxurious modern rugs covering the parquet floor. Bespoke sets of furniture, fixtures, lighting and decorative elements would showcase her jewelry in a truly one-of-a-kind environment.

  Oh! But it was the gems sitting on modern glass and wooden showcase-shelves that captured her attention. From rough, waiting to be lapidated rocks to diamonds scintillating amid colorful gems, they were set in welcoming interior black velvet spaces, forming a perfect and luxurious place for her to talk her customers through raw materials and the creative process in finding the perfect and unique piece she would design for them.

  It was done exactly like she had described her dreams to him during one of their nightly talks.

  She thre
w herself into Angus’s arms and peppered kisses on his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “My pleasure.” He smiled and tightened his arms around her. “You do your sketches and start your production, and after the baby is born, we can do a small opening to VIP customers.”

  “And if we ask Javert to work with me?”

  “Javert?” His eyebrows rose on his forehead and then he smiled as he mused it over. “Well…we can discuss it with him when we buy our wedding rings.”

  “Really? But, I don’t see why we should buy rings when we haven’t agreed on marrying.”

  “But we did agree on letting others believe we’re getting married, so whether the rings end up being props or signs of a true commitment, we still need them.”

  And then the impossibly stubborn man took her to choose wedding rings. And as promised they were visiting Javert Romani’s jewelry shop.

  Javert re-entered the private office where Siobhan and Angus were shown in as soon as they arrived, with a large black leather case held in one hand.

  Angus had instructed to help Siobhan with a selection and then wandered around the shop, responded to text messages, and generally tried to be patient, having little interest in what she selected.

  “My mother encouraged my artistic ability and eventually secured an apprenticeship for me with a goldsmith in Austria where we lived for a while. Eventually, I won a scholarship and I worked as a designer in Paris for Cartier and Boucheron,” Javert said to Siobhan as she looked over her options.

  As she became comfortable in Javert’s presence, Siobhan began to speak more freely with him.

  In fact, she became positively chatty, discussing styles, techniques, and gems, and asking about his work in Paris. It was, arguably, a more relaxed exchange than she’d ever had with Angus.