How To Love A Fake Prince

by Jasmine Ashford

  His eyes widened.

  “Lola!”

  “Aaron, you can't keep doing this!” she said, frustrating. “You know that I love you with all of my heart. You are like my brother, and you have always been kind and generous. But the one thing that you have never done is accept your reality. The sea was not supposed to be life for you forever, do you not remember? The discussion was to have fun while you could, while all was well.”

  He looked away, and she could see that she had struck a nerve.

  “And what about you, Miss Lola?” he asked, staring at the wall. “You promised you'd never give up the stage, not for anyone.”

  “I'm not,” she protested.

  “Have you done as many shows?” he asked. “This year versus the year you married Wesley?”

  “No...but...”

  “But what?” he asked. “You never cared what people thought of you, and now, you do.”

  She went quiet, picking at the blanket in front of her.

  “What do you think I'm going to do?” she asked. He always knew when she was planning something drastic, sometimes before she even knew herself.

  “I don't know,” he admitted. “But if I agree to take care of myself, you have to do so as well. Do the best thing for you, Miss Lola.”

  “Sometimes the best thing is not the easiest thing,” she responded.

  “I know,” he said, letting out a long breath. “Go on, I need some sleep.”

  “You want me to leave you alone?” she asked in surprise. Aaron was one of the only people on earth she knew who didn't need any personal space. He constantly preferred to be in the company of others, although he could sometimes be selective as to who that someone was. “Are you going to throw yourself out a window?”

  “No,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “I'd just rather have some time to think about this. I know that you're right, Miss Lola, but it's a hard reality to accept. Especially when you consider I can't exactly come home and do whatever I wish. I'd have to hide in the country, and everyone would have to come to me. And that is if my identity isn't blown or my cousin does not kill us all.”

  “Are you really that afraid of Gilles?” she asked.

  “Only when I'm not here to defend my family,” he answered.

  “All the more reason to stay home,” she replied, as she pulled her long legs off the bed. “Have you seen my husband, by the way?”

  “Likely trying to get my blood off of him,” Aaron answered. “I apologized to him when I realized what had happened...”

  “He's probably more upset about his clothes being ruined than anything,” Lola said, trying to reassure him. “I'll speak to him.”

  “Lola,” Aaron called to her, just before she reached the door. “Don't give up your title because you don't think you've earned it.”

  Her blood ran cold.

  “That's not why I'd do it,” she said.

  “But it is what you're going to do?” he asked, and she shivered. How did he always know?

  “I don't know,” she admitted. “I really don't.”

  “Don't leave me out of it,” he said. “We can talk about it.”

  “Of course,” she said, with a tight smile. “We can talk about anything.”

  She left him then, her heart hammering in her chest. She hadn't known that was what was running through her head, until he said it. Now that it was out in the open, she knew there was no going back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We have to find out what they know,” Wesley said to her, later that night in their room. He had gotten most of the blood off of him, but his collarbone still had a trace of blood across it, and she tried not to look. It was too blatant a reminder of what had happened. “And then act from there.”

  “What do you suggest?” she asked. He winced, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Are you alright?” she prompted.

  “I am. I'm just tired,” he gave her a weary smile. “Every time your best friend nearly dies in your arms, it's exhausting.”

  “And it happens too frequently,” she sighed. “I had a word with him about that. About how it might be time to come home for good.”

  “If the Spanish and French do truly win this war, then we are the only ones who might be able to sail freely,” he pointed out. She sighed.

  “I feel as if we are stuck between a rock and a hard place,” she said, softly. “Damned if we do, damned if we don't.”

  “We will always find a way, Lola,” he said. “And no one will be in danger from it, I promise you.”

  “Theater,” she said, suddenly, and he gave her an odd look.

  “You didn't go to work tonight.”

  “No, I know,” she answered. “But what if the theater invited them, gave them boxes, as Lord's? The theater is always desperate for new patrons, and since they are on the hunt for our titles, they will probably accept. There isn't a person in that theater that I don't trust to be my eyes and ears. Maybe someone can strike up a conversation and find out what they know.”

  “It's possible,” he said, knowing the loyalty of her theater fellows. “But you couldn't be there.”

  “Mm,” she hugged her knees. “Morgan could go.”

  Wesley's eyes widened.

  “As in Morgan Ouiseau, the sloppy pirate freeloading in the guest bedroom?”

  “That's not kind,” Lola answered and he shook his head.

  “Lola, I know that you are kind and non-judgmental of everyone...but that is not a person you should spend too much time with it. The rest of us are pirates by necessity, but Morgan...”

  “Is also by necessity,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He didn't know Morgan's story, that much was clear. Lola decided that it wasn't her story to tell, and rose from the bed.

  “Never mind,” she said.

  He growled.

  “Just don't talk to him, Lola.”

  “Well, maybe if someone had said that to you, we'd both be better off right now,” she said, in a flash of anger. He half choked.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “It's a thought,” she said. “That neither of us would be here if we had not spoken to each other. Your family wouldn't be disgraced...”

  “My family wouldn't be disgraced if my father had not beaten my mother,” he answered. “It had nothing to do with you.”

  “Wesley, stop,” she didn't want to dredge up their constant fight. It had nearly ripped them apart a few years ago, and Lola didn't want that to happen again. She also didn't want anyone to be physically ripped apart. “I think I'll find an empty guest room to sleep in.”

  “Lola,” he cried. “Don't be like this.”

  “It's fine,” she said, leaving the room before he could speak again.

  Unlike the last time they had this fight, she wasn't angry at him. It wasn't that she didn't love him or want to spend the rest of her life with him. She loved him so much that she was willing to do anything to keep him safe; anything to know that he was still in the world.

  It was all making sense to her now. If he went back out to sea, Aaron would never stay behind. And if Aaron didn't stay home, he would surely die out there. And if neither of them stayed home, they would lose this war and there would be a lot more deaths than in this household. Harold needed them, and she needed them.

  She had to be strong about it, she knew. How was still a lingering question in her mind, but she knew she had to do something.

  It took her the whole night to come up with the plan. She sat up in an empty guest room, watching the moon shift and eventually disappear from the sky. The house wasn't exactly quiet, not with that many people in it. She vaguely heard the noises of Aaron still up; Shauna ringing for water and then Annabelle and Shauna having a discussion in the hallway. It didn't sound serious, but Lola was alert, just in case. When she heard Harold leaving his room, near dawn, she knew she had her chance and exited as well.

  “Good morning,” he said, surprised tha
t anyone else was up. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Not at all,” she said. “But I think I have a solution to your issues.”

  “My issues?” his eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come,” she said, leading him down the staircase, so they could speak without being overheard. “Here are the issues as I see them. You need Wesley and Aaron to help you. We need to know what Gilles and Tannoy know, as well as what the court knows. Wesley won't leave unless Aaron is well. Aaron won't leave if he thinks the family is in danger. Wesley also can't sit still, so he'd rather return to help you than do nothing.”

  “So...” Harold could barely follow the train of her thoughts. “What are you suggesting?”

  “The theater invites Gilles and Tannoy, as Lord's, potential patrons. The workers will be my eyes and ears, so we can learn what they are thinking and where they see themselves. I can convince Aaron to stay down even if he's not, until you deem the bulk of the work done.”

  “That is a good start,” he mused. “And I suppose we will figure the rest out as we go.”

  “Well...” she said. “I will remove the disgrace from the title of the Earls of Rippon once and for all.”

  “Lola,” he said, quickly. “Don't do anything drastic”

  “It has to come from him,” she said. “It has to, or I'll never win. I'm going to take up with someone else. I'm going to push him away, until he realizes that the marriage should be dissolved. A divorce will disgrace me more than him, and I care not for disgrace as a Lady of the stage.”

  “Lola, you can't...” Harold said, but she shook her head, tears in her eyes.

  “Had I not disgraced the title to begin with, had I never met him, this never would have happened,” she said. “Think about it, Harold. All of this is because of our meeting, and the events that played out after then.”

  “But you don't know what would have happened otherwise,” he said. “Aaron and I had to get rid of Captain Willcock...”

  “And my presence might have changed how that played out,” she said. “Or it might have changed how Gilles reacted, given Tannoy's pushing of the situation. This is coming from the Rippon line, and now everyone is disgraced or in danger. I have to do this, for everyone's sake. Aaron made the ultimate sacrifice, and it's not fair that he continues to do so. It's my turn.”

  “Technically, it's mine,” Harold said with a long sigh.

  “You want to make a sacrifice?" Play this game with me,” she said, hotly. “Then we might be even, if everyone is still alive at the end of this.”

  He closed his eyes. This was not how he wanted his morning to go. Although he didn't see another way. He hadn't seen another way since this whole mess had started.

  “Fine,” he said, at last. “Who will you take up with?”

  “I don't know,” she said, even though she had Morgan Ouiseau in mind.

  “And what do you tend to do about Gilles claiming the Bamber line?”

  “I don't know,” she admitted again. “But it's a start, isn't it? And a very good one.”

  “A plan worthy of your husband's grand mind,” Harold answered. “Fine, I will agree with you. But I don't think this is the best way of doing it.”

  “There is no other way,” she said to him, meeting his gaze.

  “I know that,” he said. “Go to the theater, then, and put it in motion. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “I will,” she said, and then paused. “Harold...if it comes down to it...it wouldn't be the first time someone had died in the theater.”

  “It won't come down to that,” Harold said, remembering how she and Wesley had met, surrounded by controversy. “Don't even suggest that, do you hear me? We were barely able to clear your name once, and you weren't guilty. A second time, with a clear line of guilt, will be nearly impossible.”

  “That's what everyone said,” she replied, turning back to the grand staircase to get dressed for the day. She would have to get to the theater early today, to talk to a trusted few before the others arrived for the matinee performance.

  On the stairs, she nearly ran into Morgan Ouiseau himself. His presence startled her, and she took a deep calming breath, putting on the smooth mask she used on stage.

  “Good morning,” she said. “You're up early.”

  “Early watch,” he said, with a smile.

  “You're on dawn watch?” she said, in surprise. “I wouldn't have expected that.”

  “Dawn is the same as midnight,” he said, with a shrug. “Has the Captain not told you?”

  “I would have thought my husband was on early watch,” she said. “He likes to start things as soon as he can.”

  “Ah, as soon as noon arrives,” Morgan said with a smile. “We tried it for awhile, but your husband argued he could see the algorithms of battle better in his dreams at dawn, and so I took over.”

  “Hmm,” she said. “So your plan for the day?”

  “Nothing,” he shrugged. “Free as a bird.”

  “Perhaps you'd like to...” she tried not to bite her tongue “Come to the theater with me? I have a few discussions to have. You could walk me.”

  “This is early,” he said. “Do you have 10am performances now?”

  “No, matinees,” she said. “But...if you're loyal to your captain, you might like to come.”

  “I enjoy the sound of that,” he answered. “I'm in your company, then.”

  “I'll just change,” she answered, taking the stairs two at a time so he wouldn't see how fast her chest was rising.

  Lola trailed her hand along the railing as she walked, touching the carvings, committing them to memory. If their plan went off without a hitch, then it might be the last time she was in such a great house. If she was about to be reduced to a commoner once more, she would never again be invited to walk grand staircases, save those created in the theater.

  She paused outside Aaron's door, laying her palm against it. Once, he had protected all of them. Now, she would attempt to give him back what he had given all of them, so generously.

  The children were waking up in the nursery, and she could hear their carefree giggles as they greeted the day. She wanted them to always be carefree. Those children would carry the title; their birth right. She had been born to the stage and to the stage she would remain. Even if it broke her heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  You know, some actors have requests like cold wine or fresh fruit,” said her director, when Lola spoke to him around 8:00am. He had intended to come in to work on next year's budgets. However, it appeared that Lola had other ideas as to how to spend their morning. He already had raised an eyebrow when she had sauntered in at the crack of dawn with a scraggly looking fellow at her side. He knew that Lola was a titled lady, and the past few years, she hadn't entered the theater with anyone who didn't have an estate to their name. “Instead of asking me to run a private detective service.”

  “I promise you I will never ask for those things if you do this for me.”

  “Mm,” Chester smiled. “You're asking me to go after new patrons, which we desperately need, and just not yell at them for being their normal nosy selves.”

  “Excellent,” Lola said. “We can help. This is Morgan Ouiseau; he works with the Bamber family. He's happy to help out here, whatever you need.”

  “Oh?” Chester raised an eyebrow. “Do you have experience working in the theater?”

  “More with the nobles,” Morgan said, which made Chester look him up and down. “I'll handle them.”

  “Is that what you want, Lola?” Chester asked.

  “It is,” she said. “But we do have to keep this...quiet. My husband doesn't want me involved in this, he thinks it's dangerous.”

  “If they are after your title, then yes, it's dangerous,” Chester said. “Why do you have to be the one on stage?”

  “Because I can't just do nothing,” she cried out, half in frustration.

  “Love, you aren't doing nothing,” Morg
an assured her. “You're the one who is going to save us all.”

  She smiled at him, painfully. It was dramatic, and not true, but it did make her a feel an ounce better.

  “So,” Chester tried to gather his wits about him. “We'll invite them as patrons, learn their motives by getting them very comfortable, and hear their anger about your scandal on stage.”

  “Yes,” Lola said. “And then you'll report back to me. But you won't breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “Who would I tell?” Chester answered, with a shrug. “They'd think I was just dreaming of another show. It will be taken care of, Lola.”

  “You should show me around,” Morgan said to her. “So I know the ins and outs when I orchestrate my part.”

  “Of course,” Lola said, taking her leave of Chester. Her mind was fluttering at the possibilities of what they could find, but she forced a smile on her face as they walked. “This theater is my second home. It's where I started playing and I doubt I could ever leave.”

  “You did try?” Morgan asked. “You tried to leave for your Earl husband?”

  “I did,” she said. “Or at least take fewer duties. It's difficult....but no matter how difficult this is, I wouldn't wish anyone dead.”

  “Of course,” Morgan's face fell. “Death is the worst thing for a loved one.”

  “I'm sorry,” she lay a hand on his arm. “I didn't mean...”

  “It's alright, Miss Lola,” he said, with a painful smile. “I'm not the first man to become a widower and I certainty won't become the last.”

  “It doesn't matter,” she said. “It was insensitive of me, and I'm not normally like that.”

  “You have a lot on your mind,” he said. “Don't worry about me, love. I accepted my path long ago. Now, what's this?”

  “That’s uh...” she paused. “That's a trap door. We haven't used it since the accident.”

  “Accident?” Morgan asked.

  “That's how Wesley and I met, actually,” she said. “Not through a trap door...but I was practicing a song for a show here out on the street, getting honest opinions. He thought I was a beggar and gave me a coin. When I found out he knew Aaron, we became friends, and then when ...” she took a deep breath. She had not told this story in a long time. “When my former fiancé started murdering my co-stars out of jealousy...one here and one there...” her breath caught in her throat. “Wesley came to the theater to investigate. Despite the fact that his title caused him pain, he lent it to the investigation and we got my former fiancé behind bars.”