The Spare and the Heir

by Carol Moncado

  Gabe nodded, turning that over in his mind. In a few minutes, he had Chairman Franklin on the phone, and asked him about the possibility along with an explanation of the benefits and drawbacks, if any.

  Chairman Franklin’s response was thoughtful. “It makes a lot of sense. In fact, one of the other council members brought it up last week. It was tabled given the timing so soon after the late queen’s passing, but in light of Queen Esmeralda’s illness and recovery, maybe we should reconsider. Let me make some calls, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thank you, Chairman.”

  Gabe took the folder with the notes about the investigation into Isaiah Quatremaine’s associates to the dining room and settled at the table. Three assistants also shared the space for the time being, but he didn’t much care. He just wanted to spread out a bit.

  There was something in there. He just knew it.

  But the folder wasn’t nearly as thick as he expected. He asked Russell to call Craig and have him bring any other information that might be available. An hour later, Gabe had taken his folder to the security office instead.

  “Apologies for asking you to come down here, sir. Some of these files really aren’t supposed to leave the office.”

  “Understood.” The file here filled a box rather than the half-inch thick one Gabe had flipped through. “Is there anyone in particular you’re looking at and why?”

  “While we’re looking at any number of people, those most likely to have leaked information about the WLRS whereabouts are on the Council.” Craig glared at Gabe. “None of them are to know about this. The only one truly cleared at this point is Chairman Franklin.”

  “Noted. What about Emmett Wray? He already has access to a lot of this information, except the investigations into the council members, but he’ll be the chairman in a few weeks.”

  Craig studied Gabe for a long moment before replying. “Okay. Here it is. I think he’s the leak. I have no proof. I have a gut feeling his father’s death wasn’t natural, but I had no solid reason to look into it when the medical examiner decided there wouldn’t be an autopsy.”

  “Esme asked Jared to look into the official cause of death.”

  “Esme, sir?”

  Gabe shook his head. “The queen. Esmeralda.”

  “Ah, of course, sir. I doubt he’ll find anything. No one has.”

  “But you suspect Wray had something to do with it?”

  “Suspect? That might be too strong. Wonder? Maybe. Some things seem to be just too convenient.”

  “Can we exhume the body and have the brain tested for succinylcholine residue?”

  Craig raised a brow. “You know your lethal drugs.”

  Gabe grinned. “Too much TV.”

  “It’s an idea, but without cause, a judge would never force the family to allow an exhumation. If he did have his father killed, he’d never allow it. Or he’d think there was nothing to be found. If he didn’t do it, but is still guilty of so much more, it tips our hand.”

  Good point. That’s why this man was the professional. “Then what do we do?”

  “We keep watching. We have others digging into Mr. Wray as well as several other council members. We’re tracking their movements over the last couple of years, especially in Eyjania before Isaiah’s exile. We’re looking into financials. This is our job. We know how to do it.” There was a new defensiveness in his tone.

  “I know it is.” Gabe tried to reassure him. “I’m not trying to accuse you of doing anything less. Just following up on behalf of my wife and myself. We were both held captive on that island.”

  In some ways, Gabe almost couldn’t be mad about that. It was where he’d realized he’d move heaven and earth to be her husband and protect her with his life.

  But the rest of him? Wanted those responsible put away for life.

  * * *

  A week after surgery, Esme was finally starting to feel a little more normal, at least physically. She refused to dwell on her emotions and what she was missing.

  Gabe had been most solicitous, taking good care of her when the nurses weren’t around, and sometimes when they were.

  Being a good husband.

  Really what more could she ask for?

  Maybe some sort of closure to the rest of those associated with Isaiah Quatremaine, but she’d been reassured by her head of security as well as Chairman Franklin that it was under control. They hoped to make several arrests soon.

  There was no word if Emmett Wray was one of them.

  She kind of hoped he was. He’d been in meetings with her two other times in the last week. None of them were formal council meetings, but the way he’d treated her didn’t sit right. He did just enough to let others think he was giving her the respect due the crown, but she could hear the tones underlying his words. Did anyone else?

  Gabe clearly didn’t like him, but that wasn’t terribly surprising. She’d fancied herself in love with Emmett once upon a time. If she’d married him, obviously she wouldn’t be married to Gabe.

  Esme knew Gabe had feelings for her, possibly even loved her. She had feelings for him. Might even love him. If she didn’t yet, she would soon enough.

  He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was before being held hostage. If she was honest with herself that’s where her opinion of him started to change. He spent much of his time putting himself between her and the bad guys.

  Judy walked into the sitting room. “How are you feeling, ma’am?”

  “I’m all right. Not great, but much better than last week.”

  Judy smiled at her. “Good. We’re going to have you sit in the wheelchair, but we do have a surprise for you.”

  A surprise? She hadn’t been surprised very often. She doubted very many queens were.

  Karen helped Esme into a nicer outfit than she’d worn since the hospital.

  She was wheeled to a corridor near the reception area used most often for school groups and other less formal visitors.

  The nurse on duty helped Esme stand and straighten her dress.

  “The prince will meet you inside,” Judy told her as she straightened Esme’s hem a little more. “Just follow his lead. There will be a place for you to sit in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Esme took a deep breath to steady herself. She hadn’t been up and around much since surgery. Enough, but likely not as much as she should have been.

  A staff member bowed at the waist then opened the door to an ante room. Esme walked through to find Gabe waiting for her. He extended his elbow, and she gratefully slipped her hand through it. Another staff member opened the door to the reception room.

  “Good morning, Queen Esmeralda!” The cries came from around the room.

  Esme gasped. Balloons and streamers were everywhere with a giant homemade Get Well Soon sign as the centerpiece of the decorations.

  “Oh my!” She looked around trying to take it all in, including about forty children. “Good morning! What’s all this?”

  “These are two year-four classes from Carlotta the First Primary School. They earned nationwide recognition for their anti-bullying program,” Gabe explained. “They have been on the schedule for months. They were told you might not be able to see them or would possibly only have a few minutes. They asked if they could throw you a get-well party.” He winked at her. “I thought it was a great idea.”

  “It is a wonderful idea.”

  Gabe urged her forward to a chair waiting for her. “Good morning,” she said again. “Thank you for coming to visit me.”

  “Are you okay, Queen Esme?” one of the children asked.

  Her teacher shushed her.

  Esme smiled. “It’s quite all right. I am doing much better than I was. I am still not quite back to my normal self, but I’m getting better every day.”

  “They would like to show you their anti-bullying presentation, Your Majesty.” One of the teachers curtsied as she spoke.

  “I would love to see it.” It was probably a topic she need
ed to be more outspoken about. She’d never given it much thought, but she knew she needed to.

  There was much whispering and rearranging of the students. Some sat on the floor in front of Esme while others stood off to the side and held signs.

  Two of the kids, a boy and a girl, moved to stand in front of what appeared to now be a stage area in front of the stone fireplace. Esme had never appreciated just how large it was until now when she saw how the size compared to the children.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, and honored guests,” the girl started.

  “Today, we’d like to talk to you about the Stamp Out Bullying Program we implemented at Carlotta the First and give you some ideas on how to start a program like this at your school or workplace,” the boy continued.

  For the next fifteen minutes, the children took turns presenting the different aspects of their program. The students sitting on the floor in front of Esme asked questions. They seemed to be prearranged but were good ones.

  By the time the presentation ended, Esme was tempted to implement the program in the palace, though she didn’t know if it was needed. She hoped not but would need to check with Personnel or possibly talk with her immediate employees. They would have a better idea and perhaps be more honest.

  “Are there any other questions?” the first girl asked.

  Gabe asked a couple of questions as did Esme. The children answered them quite well.

  Afterward, each of the children came by to talk to Esme and Gabe for a moment. By the time they were finished, she’d been in the reception room for nearly two hours.

  She was about to motion to Judy when Gabe stood.

  “Thank you all very much for coming. I’m afraid it’s time for the nurse to do her job and check on the queen, so she’s going to have to go. I’ll be back in just a minute, all right?”

  He held out a hand and helped her stand.

  “Do your best. It’s only a few feet,” he said softly, tucking her hand in his elbow. “They’re going to take you back to rest now.”

  “Thank you.” She squeezed the inside of his arm. “For arranging this and for knowing I was ready to leave.”

  He grinned down at her. “Hey. It’s my job.”

  Esme smiled back as the door opened in front of them. Just out of sight sat the wheelchair. In a few seconds, Gabe helped her sit down, and she was on her way back to their apartment to rest.

  * * *

  It took almost two weeks, but this phone call was the one Gabe had been dreading. “What’s the word, Jonathan?”

  His friend sighed. “Good news and bad news.”

  That puzzled Gabe. “Either it’s my child or it’s not. There’s no other answer.”

  “True,” Jonathan conceded. “And you’re not the child’s father.”

  A wave of relief swept over Jonathan. “I hope that’s the bad news.” Because anything else would be even better.

  “Nope. That’s the good news. Are you sitting down?”

  Gabe leaned back in his desk chair. That couldn’t be good. “Yes.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “There’s no easy way to say this, Gabe.”

  “Just say it.” The worst news would have been that he was a father. This couldn’t be worse than that.

  “The child is your half-sister.”

  Or maybe it could. “My... sister? Not my brother’s child? My actual sister?” His brother wasn’t the kind of man Gabe had been, but he knew fathering a child was at least a possibility.

  “I’m afraid it looks that way. Based on a reconstruction of events from publicly available information, you and your father were in California together. You went out to dinner with this young lady. She went to your suite with you. Around the same time, she was also intimate with your father and became pregnant.” Jonathan sighed. “I wish there was an easier way to tell you or a way to explain it.”

  Gabe tried to wrap his mind around all of it. If he’d taken a woman back to his suite, there was a very good chance they hadn’t talked the night away.

  But she slept with his father?

  That was a whole new level of creepy.

  “Who’s the woman?” he finally asked.

  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but not as someone he’d dated. Gabe swiveled in his chair and brought up an incognito window in his browser. He was sure palace IT guys could track everything, but no point in leaving more digital footprints than necessary.

  He typed the woman’s name into the search bar. Their date was the first thing to pop up.

  Something about the date on the photo struck him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “What are you thinking? I can almost hear the wheels turning.” Jonathan tapped at something on his own computer.

  “What else was going on in my world at that point?” Gabe asked. “I can’t quite remember, but there’s something important.”

  There were clicks on a mouse. “Your brother was getting a lot of press for not settling down.”

  Another thought hit him. “What about Esme?” He couldn’t bring himself to do the search on his own.

  “Um...” Jonathan muttered a few things as he read them off his screen. “She appeared to be dating a man named Emmett Wray. There was speculation that they were serious and possibly engaged.”

  That’s what it was.

  “I didn’t sleep with her.” Gabe knew that as sure as he knew anything.

  “I hate to say this, but are you sure?”

  “Yes. I remember that night. I had a few too many and, even though she went back to the suite, I sent her away after a few light kisses in my room.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “There might have been one or two more actual dates after that with other women, but that was basically the time I stopped being who I was and started trying to be a better man.”

  Silence met his pronouncement. Jonathan finally responded with, “That’s not exactly what the tabloids say.”

  Of course it wasn’t. “You of all people should know better than to believe everything you read in the tabloids.”

  “I know.”

  Gabe tried to figure it all out. “Which means it looks like I kicked her out of my room, and she managed to find my father.”

  “It would appear that way.”

  Gabe blew out a breath. If what Jonathan said was true, there were serious implications.

  “It does get worse.”

  He closed his eyes. “My father knows?”

  “It seems he does.”

  “And what has he done?”

  “It looks like someone is paying her off. She has no job, no visible means of income, but lives very well. An expensive condo. A nanny. Vacations all over the world, usually without the child.”

  “And there’s no inheritance she could have gotten?”

  “No. Before the pregnancy, she worked a part-time job and lived with her parents while on a break from university. She went on vacation to California with her sister.”

  “There’s likely legal implications in Auverignon.” And he was going to have to be the one to bring them up. “I need to find a way to talk to Daniel. He was my personal head of security. He’ll know who can be trusted to look into it. My father is king now. That makes things a little more difficult than if he were still the crown prince.”

  Silence greeted the statement.

  “What do you want to say?” Gabe knew there was something on Jonathan’s mind.

  “You don’t have to do anything with this information, sir.”

  The formality grated on Gabe. “Yes, I do. You knew when you told me I would.”

  “For what it’s worth, the child is being well taken care of, happy and healthy, doing well in her early years of schooling.”

  “Good. But I want to make sure the child is taken care of regardless of what happens to the mother in the course of all of this.”

  “What?”

  Gabe looked up to see Esme standing in hi
s office, her eyes wide in shock.

  He didn’t look away from her. “Jonathan, let me call you back. I may need you to corroborate some things to Esme for me.”

  “Anytime. Let me know what I can do.”

  “There’s a child?” Esme asked as he set the phone down.

  Gabe went to her side and helped her ease into a chair. She didn’t shrug him off until she was seated which told him how weak she felt at the moment.

  “Yes and no,” he answered sitting in the chair next to her. “I hired Jonathan to do a search, to see if there were any children out there that could be mine. He found one possibility, but I’m not the father.”

  “Why would you do that?” Esme rested her hands demurely in her lap though Gabe was certain she wanted to strangle him.

  “I wanted to be able to come to you and tell you that I knew with near certainty that I never had a child with another woman.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  He rested his forearms on his knees. “I won’t swear that there might not be another woman or two out there whose names never made it to the list security kept, but to the best of my knowledge and Jonathan’s, no. I’m not a father.” Saying it, telling Esme, pushed a weight off his shoulders.

  “Then what child?” Her own shoulders seemed to slump in relief.

  Gabe closed his eyes. “My half-sister.”

  26

  If Esme had this much trouble trying to assimilate the information, she could only imagine how Gabe felt about it.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I have a much younger half-sister, and there could be constitutional implications. It’s up to me to decide what to do with the information.” She could tell the information weighed on him.

  “What are the implications?”