How To Love A Fake Prince

by Jasmine Ashford

  “I can send for the doctor,” Lola said. “Surely he would swear to secrecy. The servants would never...”

  “The servants rely on the house for income,” Harold said. “The doctor does not. Wesley, is that blood just coming from his nose?”

  “I think so,” Wesley said. “But I'm not enjoying bathing in it, and I'm not going to move him and find out.”

  “Just turn his head to the side,” Lola said. “In case he vomits, it's safer that way.”

  “Lovely,” Wesley said, as he adjusted Aaron's neck to make sure he wasn't face down. His eyes were open, but glazed. Lola reached out to take her best friend's hand, wishing he was conscious enough to talk to. She would say all sorts of things, mostly starting with the fact that she felt like this was her fault. She was recognizable, she was controversial, and now the Irish family had teamed up to take them all down. Wesley would never accept that it was her that was causing everything, setting the events in motion.

  There was silence in the carriage for a moment, and then Wesley spoke.

  “They'll be back,” Wesley said. “With blackmail, I don't doubt. We're going to have to formulate a new plan.”

  “So Gilles wants the title because Annabelle shouldn't have it,” Lola summarized. “But now he knows Aaron's alive and we lied about it, which means he could black mail us into giving him the title. Tannoy wants our title on the basis of scandal, and the basis that you...didn't acknowledge your title for awhile.”

  “And if we are living in a perfect world,” Harold put in. “I need the two of you to be who you were five years ago, otherwise we might all be speaking Spanish in two years. Especially you, Wesley.”

  “And then the Navy questions where I was and they find out for certain that Captain Halloway was actually Lord Bamber, and everything goes to hell, pardon my language,” Wesley asked.

  “Tannoy wouldn't have shown up if you didn't have a scandalous marriage,” Lola said, quietly.

  “Well, he's going to have to deal with that,” Wesley answered, shifting again as Aaron coughed. “Eh, Capt. Vomit on the floor, please.”

  “Do you know,” Lola said. “He always told me that he didn't want to die at sea. He wanted to die at home, where his ancestors had lived and died. The sea was his way of walking a different path...but he knew his duty and he didn't want to divert from it.”

  “He's not going to die,” Harold said, firmly.

  “He will eventually,” Lola said. “I just wonder if we're reaching a point where he just shouldn't be sailing anymore, that's all.”

  “Which, as you may have figured out, is a lot more risky,” Wesley pointed out and she sighed.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said. “Being in one place, especially as he gets sick. Even the country manor, he couldn't stay inside forever. Although Shauna and Gwendolyn would love to have him home all the time. But they are still living in a house that is the site of a controversial marriage.”

  “Lola,” Wesley said. “I need you to stop focusing on that, unless you really want me to leave you on the side of the road.”

  “Eh,” Harold growled. “The two of you spent two years growling at each other like this. I don't want to go through it again. You said vows, that's the end of that.”

  “Mm,” Lola said, and then Aaron choked. Lola leaned forward, titling his head down a bit and Wesley closed his eyes as Aaron vomited onto the carriage floor.

  “I'm fond of you, Capt, but oh Lord,” he said, even as he accommodated it.

  “You shouldn't be used to this,” Harold said to Wesley. “It must be hard when you're alone and sailing.”

  “It's fine,” Wesley said, but Lola could see on his face that it was difficult.

  Annabelle's carriage had reached the house before them, and Matheson and Corrigan were waiting to help with the man they had practically raised.

  To Lola's surprise, Morgan Ouiseau was also there, reaching his hand to help her out of the carriage. She accepted it, as Wesley helped his Captain down.

  “I take it the party was less fun than you anticipated?” he asked.

  “Barrels of fun, including the fist fight,” Lola replied, as she let them go ahead. “With fun like that, who needs war?”

  “Is it bad?” Morgan asked.

  “Yes,” Lola replied. “In more ways than one. We're not sure if half the nobles now know he's alive. But his family certainly does, and my in-laws. It appears they've teamed up.”

  “No better time to have them though,” Morgan said. “With the Spanish threatening to attack.”

  She was surprised he knew that, turning to him. He smiled.

  “Not as stupid as I look, Love,” he said.

  She laughed.

  “I wasn't thinking that,” she said. “You just seem so experienced, taking it in stride.”

  “Lots of years at sea,” he said with a shrug.

  “About the titles,” she replied. “I just...it took me a long time to learn the ins and out of nobility and the rules.”

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked. “In the garden? Give them some space? You look done in.”

  “I---” she wanted to make sure Aaron was alright, but there was enough people around him that it would be case. In addition, she was pretty sure that if she was inside, she would cry. There was a lump in her throat, from her thoughts swirling around. “Yes, I would like that.”

  “Come on, then,” Morgan said, leading her around back. Lola could see all the candles lit in the house, and she knew they would come and get her if there was any issue. “You grew up here, yes?”

  “Just across the way,” she replied. “I made money very young, as a child performer, and my parents used it to give us luxury. Aaron was the first person who didn't act like it was odd, or that I was any less for being a lady of the stage.”

  “And now you are a Countess...”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I feel like...I'm sorry, it doesn't matter. Not tonight.”

  “On the contrary, Love,” he said as they walked through the garden path. “That's when it matters the most.”

  “I don't feel like a Countess,” she was surprised to find herself opening up to a pirate she barely knew, but he was very easy to talk to. In addition, she felt like he understood, which was odd. There were very few people who would understand the burdens of a title they married into and were making scandalous with their every breath. However, Morgan's next words practically traced her heart.

  “And you feel like you are letting hundreds of years of title down?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, in disbelief that he understood. “I didn't marry him for his title; I didn't even know that he was an Earl until weeks after our courtship began. Please don't tell him, but I just... I didn't want to marry him at all. I loved him, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, but I thought we'd do that by being together when we could, and not altering our way of life, the things that we loved. The title was something I never cared about...and I thought he didn't care about either. But of course he does, I should have realized.”

  “You would have married him regardless of title?” Morgan confirmed.

  “I wish he never had it,” Lola said. “I can't help like feeling that everything is my fault. Without my fame on his title, perhaps Aaron's cousin would have never found him...”

  “Lola, darling,” he said. “That has nothing to do with the Lord's need to have those two in fighting form for the Spanish attack.”

  “I don't know,” she wiped a tear from her face. “Maybe I set a chain of events in motion.”

  “Do you really blame yourself?” he said in surprise, and she nodded. “Then what can you do to make yourself feel better?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, and Morgan shrugged.

  “There's no point in talking you out of it, I get the feeling you've made up your mind. So what can you do?”

  “I--- can't turn back time,” she said. “But maybe being married to an actress isn't helping matters right now. I'm
easier to trace than he is. Everyone knows where I'm playing next. And even retiring isn't going to help matters, the damage is already done.”

  “So what?” he asked her, plainly. “What would help?”

  “Leaving him,” she burst into tears, embarrassed that she couldn't control her emotions, which was her profession. It was the most heart breaking thing in the world, but she couldn't think of another way.

  “Do you really think that will make it better, given how much has transpired?”

  “I do,” she said, putting her hands to her face. “I do. But if I just walk away...he won't give up. He won't stop chasing me. I know he loves me, that's not the issue....”

  “What would make him stop?” Morgan asked plainly.

  “I don't know,” Lola shook her head, leaning against a small fence in the garden. “I don't know,” she tried to wipe away the tears again. “How do you walk away from something like that?”

  “Death,” Morgan said, still plainly. He was staring off into the moonlight, but his mind was clearly turning. “Either death to the relationship, or death to the partner.”

  Something in his voice sent chills down her spine. She turned slowly towards him, keeping her tone neutral.

  “Which did you experience?” she asked softly. His words came out before he could think. Normally, he was so guarded, so careful in what he said. He reckoned he could control his emotions better than the actress could. However, he wasn't prepared for how disarming she was; how close this situation was to his own heart.

  “Death to my partner,” he said, and was surprised that his hands were shaking. It was as if he couldn't stop himself from talking anymore.

  “Who was she?” Lola said.

  “The Duchess Marin,” he said. Lola's eyes widened, as she recognized the first name.

  “Good Lord, were you the Duke of Brody?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Morgan stared off into the moonlight. “Until Marin died, and with her, the title.”

  “How did she die?” Lola asked, carefully.

  “She was sick,” Morgan glanced towards her. “I knew it was happening. That's why I was in the Navy. she wanted me to play it straight, to be honorable....and I did, and I was, and it didn't make an ounce of difference in her life expectancy She died anyways, and had I not been in the Navy, had I been on my own schedule, my own ship, perhaps I could have been home with her. Instead, I didn't get to say goodbye.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I'm sorry,” she said, softly. “Do the others know?”

  “Not the whole story,” he ran his hand over his face. “I don't know what's come over me, my apologies.”

  “You don't know what's come over you?” Lola chuckled. “I'm the one sitting here not controlling my emotions, which I have been trained to do.”

  “I've never told anyone the whole story,” Morgan smiled at her. “Perhaps we're kindred spirits.”

  “Ha,” Lola answered. “Perhaps we are just tired. We should get back to the house, to see if they need help.”

  “He looked pretty bad,” Morgan said, as they walked towards the house.

  “Aye,” Lola said. “He broke his nose, I think, which he'll lament.”

  “That's our Captain Halloway,” Morgan said. “Always concerned about his looks. I keep telling him to focus on the sea or something.”

  “The sea,” Lola took a deep breath. “Which he's going to have to realize he shouldn't go back to. It's getting too bad, I think. My husband looked much calmer than he used to, so he's clearly dealt with it many times.”

  “Aye,” Morgan said. “It's...frequent He's not...” he cleared his throat. “Sorry, this is delicate. He's not likely to survive that, is he? Long term?”

  “No,” Lola said. “He's not. So it's important that he spend time with his family now, and I think he'll start to realize that.”

  “If we can sort this mess out.”

  “If we can sort this mess out,” she echoed, as they let themselves back into the grand manor. Annabelle was just coming down the stairs, and Lola winced as she saw her beautiful ball gown was covered in blood. “Oh my.”

  “It's alright,” Annabelle looked exhausted. “He's alright; he just fell on me on the way up. I was going to come get you, he was asking for you.”

  “For me?” Lola asked. “Was one ball gown not enough for him to ruin?”

  Annabelle cracked a smile.

  “Well, he's done your husband's outfit in as well. I think he's quite proud of it, really.”

  “So he's alright, then?” Lola asked. Annabelle sighed.

  “He's awake,” she said. “And we're grateful for that.”

  “I'll go right up then,” Lola said, turning to Morgan. “Thank you for the talk.”

  “Anytime, Miss Montclair,” he gave her a mock bow and headed into the parlor. Lola turned to Annabelle, to find her staring at her.

  “What?” she asked, surprised.

  “That was odd,” Annabelle said, giving her a strange look. “What were you two talking about?”

  “Why?” Lola asked. “We were just talking. He seems kind.”

  “Mm,” Annabelle said, and Lola rolled her eyes.

  “You of all people should not be bothered by my unconventional friendships.”

  “I'm not,” Annabelle said, although she clearly had other thoughts. “Go on up. It will be good timing because Shauna would like to get Gwendolyn to bed.”

  “Right,” Lola took the stairs carefully, not wanting to trip over her gown. She rounded the grand staircase, and pushed open the door to the bedroom to the left of the master. It was odd that he wasn't in the master bedroom, in his own house, another reminder of what a mess they were all in.

  Aaron was on top of the covers, his clothes still blood soaked and his face only half awake. Shauna was sitting on the bed, holding his hands, and speaking softly. When Lola knocked on the door, she turned.

  “Oh, wonderful,” she said. “Can you stay with him a moment? I'm just going to get Gwendolyn ready for bed and then I'll be back.”

  “Certainly,” Lola said, as she advanced forward. “Do you want to bring Gwendolyn in here?”

  “Not right now,” Shauna patted her husband's hand. “Don't tire Lola out. Don't move, in fact.”

  “Mm,” he managed, as Lola sat at the edge of the bed, taking Shauna's spot. She leaned against the bed post, and they fell into silence for a few moments. Lola and Aaron had always needed very few words. They chose to use many most of the time, but every once in awhile, she enjoyed their communication in just brief looks and raised eyebrows. Finally, she nudged his leg.

  “What a mess,” she said, echoing Morgan's words. He raised an eyebrow, and moved to prop himself up on his elbows. “No, don't,” she warned him. “You can talk to me from there.”

  “How badly?” his voice was sore, no doubt from vomiting half his meals.

  “How badly did we make a mess?” she asked. “I don't know. We tried to cover your face, but the families know. And it's possible some of the nobles do.”

  “Ugh,” he closed his eyes. “I have to get back to sea, Lola. It is too dangerous for me to be here. I should have never come.”

  “If you want my opinion,” she said. “And I'm not sure that you do...I don't think there should be a sea life for you anymore.”

  His eyes flickered, and she held up her hand.

  “Listen to me,” she said. “Wesley loves you, the crew loves you. However, you can't captain a ship if you're limp on the deck. I know you want to be out there....but there's a home for you here, too.”

  “I can't...”

  “You can,” she said. “I'm the only one who is going to be blunt with you. If you had died tonight, Aaron, and you know that you could have, would you be happy with the amount of time you've spent with Shauna and Gwendolyn?”

  He looked away and she knew she was striking a cord.

  “Let us protect you,” she said, softly. “Like you protected everyone else.”

 
He cleared his throat.

  “Do you have another dramatic plan for me?” he asked. “Because faking my own death was a show stopper.”

  “Let me think,” she squeezed his hand. “I'll come up with something to keep you home, in the country, and enjoying the rest of your life.”

  “Gilles...”

  “I'll come up with something for that too,” she said. “How dare he march in and try to take something he had no claim too.”

  “And Tannoy?”

  “Oy, well, he has a different case,” Lola answered. “I can focus on Gilles because I think I can fix that scenario.”

  “Lola,” Aaron warned her. “Don't do anything to compromise....”

  “Can you just rest?” she asked him. “How's your nose?”

  He put his hand up to his bruised face, which made him wince and distracted him.

  “Is it terrible?”

  “You're horribly scared for the rest of your life,” she rolled her eyes. “It will heal, same as every sailor who’s ever broken his nose. Worry about that, hmm?”

  “Lola,” Aaron grabbed her hand. “If something happens to me, you will take care of them?”

  “Of course,” she said. “But nothing is going to happen to you, so don't worry.”

  “You don't know that,” he said. “It could be tomorrow, it could be tonight. Ah,” he shifted and she could see pain cross his face.

  “What is it?”

  “Trauma,” he said, dismissing it. “But it could not be next time.”

  “Shauna and Gwendolyn will be taken care of,” she said, and they fell into silence again. “I had a good talk with Morgan Ouiseau just now.”

  “Oh?” he said, surprised. “About what?”

  “About life,” she shrugged. “He's got quite a story.”

  “He's not been open about most of it,” Aaron replied. “But I knew there was a tragedy, and I knew there was grief.”

  “There is,” Lola said. “But perhaps I'll let him share that with you when you are well. Your job for now is to recover, alright?”

  “My ship...”

  “Is that not what your first mate is for?” she asked. “He will take care of it. And if it comes that you are off so long that they need...to find other ways to survive, they will.”