Taming the Rebel Prince

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Taming the Rebel Prince Page 12

by Victoria Hart


  The sound of whispers was the only noise that Astrid could hear, hissing like a den of snakes as the judge slammed his gavel against the podium and demanded silence. Bruno Klapner’s face was as red as his attorney’s, while the other attorneys on his team looked deathly pale by comparison.

  The attorneys returned to their tables. The Judge announced, “In light of new evidence in the case of Mr. Bruno Klapner versus His Highness the Prince of Rogandal, Eric Einar Gunborg, it is the decision of this court that all charges be dropped immediately. This court would also like it added that any charges brought against His Highness by the police department regarding this matter be stricken from the record. It is the opinion of this court that the detectives in this case should be brought up on disciplinary charges for gross negligence. This case is dismissed. A warrant for the extradition and arrest of the Duke of Gothland, Balder Auldenson, will be issued immediately.”

  Bruno Klapner flew into a rage, upset that he would miss his opportunity to sue a prince for the damage to his boat. He jumped out of his chair as his attorneys frantically tried to pull him back to his seat. He screamed, “This is an outrage! This is a gross miscarriage of justice, and I demand that he pay for my yacht.”

  The judge banged his gavel and ordered Bruno to be seated. “Sir, if you cannot control yourself I will have you arrested for contempt. You will respect the rulings of this court and the authority of this bench.”

  “Like hell I will! I want satisfaction. I want that snot-nosed royal piece of crap to pay for what he and his friends did to my boat!”

  The judge, without showing a hint of emotion, ordered, “Bailiff, arrest this man for contempt and remove him immediately.”

  Astrid watched with astonishment as the millionaire was removed in handcuffs from the courtroom, spitting and cursing, the judge increasing his fine and the length of his sentence with every word he said. As the door to the courtroom closed, the judge banged his gavel once more and said, “Court is dismissed.”

  Klapner’s attorneys sat in stunned silence. The lead attorney walked over to Sherrington and held out his hand. “No hard feelings, mate.”

  Sherrington shook his hand. “No hard feelings. Perhaps next time you’ll have better luck convincing your client to accept a settlement.”

  “Doubtful – he loves all this attention, and I love it when I get my percentage! Good day to you. Well played, I must say. Well played indeed, caught me unaware.”

  Eric stared at Sherrington, and then at Astrid, “What did you two do?”

  Astrid answered him icily. “It doesn’t matter – it worked, and that is all you have to know. Now, we are going to walk out those doors and this time we will be talking to the press. Wait, let me correct that. I will be speaking to the press and so will your attorney. You just stand there, smile, and look handsome. That’s all you’re good at.”

  “And what if I don’t cooperate, what then?” asked Eric.

  “Eric, don’t mess this up. We have an opportunity here to change everything and rewrite the public’s opinion of you. If you just allow us handle it, you will reap the reward.”

  Astrid and Sherrington leaned close, speaking in whispers, planning their strategy. As the courtroom cleared, they walked out into the crowded hallway, one on either side of Eric. The cameras clicked and the reporters shoved microphones in their faces.

  Walking down the steps to the front of the of the courthouse, Sherrington stopped and held up his hands. “We can take your questions now, but make it quick.”

  Reporters crowded around the attorney, all trying to catch his attention. He fielded questions about the prince’s involvement, and most importantly, why the prince confessed to a crime he did not commit. By the end of the impromptu press conference, the attorney painted a flattering picture of the prince as a loyal friend and brother, willing to take the blame for man engaged to his sister. It was a daring move, and the reporters were as excited as a hungry pack of hunting dogs, fighting for any delectable morsel of news that they could glean.

  Astrid spoke next, as diplomatic attaché of the court of Rogandal. She said she deeply regretted the news that the princess’s fiancé was wanted in connection to this terrible boating accident. She promised the full cooperation of the royal family and the country of Rogandal, although she was quick to point out that Rogandal was not responsible for the actions of the Duke of Gothland, resident of a sovereign nation in its own right. She also conveyed the regret of the princess, innocent of the actions of her fiancé.

  Eric smiled and waved as the cameras clicked, and the reporters threw questions his way, always answered by Sherrington or Astrid. Sherrington steered Eric and Astrid to the waiting car and joined them behind the tinted windows, finally free of the throngs of reporters and their incessant questions.

  Astrid shook the attorney’s hand. “Well done. Well done, indeed! Klapner being arrested was quite a bonus, but I would have to say that went better than expected.”

  Sherrington smiled, “Yes it did, I was honored to be of service to the royal house of Rogandal and to you, Lady Willoughby. I have tremendous respect for your family and it has been a pleasure.”

  Astrid sat back in the leather seat of the limousine, a heavy weight removed from her narrow shoulders, surreptitiously gazing at Eric. She was unable to read his true feelings as he made small talk with Sherrington. Reaching for her phone, she briefly considered calling the king to share the good news and prepare him for the fallout, but then she remembered that he did give her permission to do anything she deemed necessary for the sake of Rogandal. The verdict and press conference seemed to fall into that category.

  * * *

  Astrid and Eric returned to the suite. She powered on the laptop and logged in, to find that the internet was buzzing with the news of the court case. She scrolled through the video available and was proud that Eric looked handsome and aristocratic as Sherrington answered questions in front of the courthouse in Grenada.

  As the news swept through the internet gossip sites, two other stories were beginning to break: the unannounced engagement of the princess, and speculation that Eric may have found a possible fiancé of his own in Grenada, a Miss Cordelia Godwin, granddaughter to Sir Alfred Godwin, treasurer to the royal family. Astrid was not thrilled about the romance story tying Eric to Cordelia, but at least it was a step in the right direction. In her experience, royal romances and weddings always captured the imagination of the public and were good for tourism.

  Astrid was overjoyed with the outcome. She called down to room service and ordered a pitcher of margaritas, an appetizer tray and a sandwich – she was starving and in the mood to celebrate. Hanging up the phone, she became increasingly aware that she had not heard a sound from the prince since their return from court.

  Feeling oddly civil to the man she loathed, she walked to his bedroom. When she knocked on the door he answered her in monotone. “What do you want?”

  “Your Highness, we have good news. I’ve ordered drinks to celebrate, if you would care to join me so we may go over our strategy.”

  The door opened and Eric emerged wearing a pair of khaki board shorts, no shirt, and flip flops. “Let me put on a shirt and I’ll join you,” he said joylessly.

  The prince sat at the table beside her as she shared the latest headlines with him. “See? Look at that, we have the press on our side at long last. Now we just have to keep it that way.”

  Room service arrived and Astrid poured herself and Eric a margarita. She was so overcome with happiness at the turn of events that she was willing to bury the hatchet for a few minutes. She raised a glass and said, “To luck, to love, and to life.”

  “What was that about my sister? You never told me you were going to bring her into this, not in front of the press.”

  “Eric, this is no time to be sentimental. It was a necessary evil. We both know she was directly involved in what happened to you here in Grenada, and that she has been manipulating the press in her favor. That was jus
t a taste of bad publicity. I am sure she has more to hide, much more.”

  “That’s your plan, to fight this way, to dish out dirt in the press?” he asked with a look of disgust on his face.

  “Eric, ordinarily I would like to say that I am above such measures, but we don’t have time to play fair. Later, after you’ve been formally recognized in the line of succession, you can be as honorable as you like, but right now, we no longer have that luxury.”

  “I suppose you’re right. She’s always been like this, jealous of me, ever since we were children. When we were little she would break vases and priceless things and blame it on me. She threw a rock through an antique stained glass window in our private chapel and blamed me. My parents sided with her. I was already labeled a troublemaker at that age – they didn’t even ask me if it was true – they just punished me.”

  “That must have been difficult to endure, growing up with a sibling who could do no wrong in your parents’ eyes, while you were punished for her malicious schemes.”

  “I don’t remember how old I was when I decided I’d had enough. I went to university and never looked back.”

  Astrid sipped the ice cold margarita, feeling the alcohol going to her head. Smiling despite her vow to keep her relationship with Eric strictly professional, she complimented him. “That little affair you have going with Cordelia, that was a brilliant move from a publicity standpoint. She is the daughter of a noble family attached to the royal family of Britain, and she is quite pretty. I was mad, but it’s turned out to work in our favor.”

  “How so? How is that working out in our favor? It appears that I’m the one getting all the favors – what are you getting out of it?”

  Astrid stood and opened the French doors leading to the patio and the pool. “Nothing, it’s not important. I’m going to dip my feet in the pool. Care to join me?”

  Eric brought the pitcher of margaritas and his glass. He joined Astrid as she sat on the side of the pool, her red-painted toenails shining like jewels in the deliciously cool water of the swimming pool.

  “Willoughby, you haven’t told me what you’re getting out of my affair with Cordelia.”

  Astrid looked down at the sparkling water. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a brilliant piece of public relations, and that is all that matters right now.”

  “I think there’s something you haven’t told me, something important.”

  “Eric, we leave for Rogandal in less than 48 hours. If you want to see Cordelia again, invite her to dinner at the Sands, or here to the hotel, and be ready to smile for the cameras. Look like you are having a fabulous time – that shouldn’t be hard to do. In the meantime, I have a few stops lined up before we can go back to Rogandal.”

  “I’ll do what you say, but only if you keep treating me like you are right now. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your hatred, but I wish you’d stop acting hot and cold.” He poured another round of drinks for them both.

  Astrid didn’t think she needed another drink, but she was in a celebratory mood and took a big sip of the frosty beverage before she answered. “What does it matter how I act towards you? You don’t care about anyone but yourself. Women, to you, are beautiful ornaments. You care more about Freja than you do for any girl you’ve ever loved, don’t you?”

  “Freja is my girl and you’re holding her hostage. I will do anything to get her back, even behave, as you like to say.”

  “Is that why you’re being nice to me, right now? Purely because of Freja?”

  “No, it’s not. I’m nice to you because I had a moment of clarity today. You have fought for me, and tried to help me more than anyone I’ve ever met, even more than my own family. I know I’m just an annoying royal in need of shining up for the press, but you’ve come to my assistance even when I told you not to.”

  “Eric, I just hate to lose and you are my last assignment. It’s a matter of honor for me. That, plus I would love to wipe that smug look off your sister’s face.”

  “Smug? She is, isn’t she? Perfect in every way, and devious. You’d never know it, but she takes after our father.”

  Astrid nearly dropped her drink. “Your father? He has treated me with nothing but respect. What do you mean, he’s devious?”

  “He is; ask your mother. She was lady-in-waiting to my mother, so she could tell you, as could anyone who knew him in his younger days. He was the second son. He convinced his parents to change the line of succession – and that’s just the beginning of it.”

  Astrid was flabbergasted. “I didn’t know that. What else happened? You said that was just the beginning.”

  “Willoughby, I don’t want to talk about it and ruin our victory party. You were just starting to treat me like a person and not like a job.”

  “You can tell me – it won’t ruin anything. I promise.”

  Eric took a long sip of his drink and set the glass down on the side of the pool, his shoulders slumping as he answered. “I don’t want to go into any details – I just can’t – but I will tell you just how devious my father is. I was in love once, can you believe it? Me, in love. It was right after university. The girl was a wealthy commoner from France. Her family didn’t have a claim to nobility, but they owned more land than all of Rogandal. She was beautiful, funny, and loved skiing.”

  “What happened?”

  “Promise me you will never contact her or give her name to the press.”

  “I promise. You have my word as a lady.”

  “Claudine was her name, and she was breathtaking, but her looks were secondary to her passionate nature and her witty conversation. I thought I had found an angel; I was the luckiest man I knew. I introduced her at court and was informed by my parents that despite Claudine’s wealth and upbringing, I was unable to marry her, because she was a commoner, after all. My father was insistent, threatening to disown me, to disinherit me, the works.”

  “What became of this Claudine?”

  “My father refused to allow me to marry her. Yet oddly enough, he didn’t immediately send her away from court. I was naïve and overjoyed. I thought he would relent, that perhaps I’d be able to change his mind, since she was still at the palace, that perhaps he was warming up to her. I should have suspected something wasn’t right. Little did I know, he was warming up to her, and she was to him. They had begun an affair.”

  Astrid gasped in surprise. “An affair, your father and your fiancée?”

  Eric nodded, pouring another round of drinks into their empty glasses. “My mother suspected the affair, but she never knew for certain. My father refused to admit it, it was Claudine who told me. She said she loved me but found my father, the king, far more to her taste. I left home heartbroken and went to live on my boat, with my friends at my side. It was because of my heartbreak over Claudine that I nearly overdosed in Bangkok. I just wanted to numb the pain of her betrayal, but especially what my father had done.”

  “And Ben came to your rescue, didn’t he?”

  “He did. I wasn’t completely truthful when I told you what happened in Bangkok before. I didn’t want you to think I was some weak, lovesick fool.”

  “I don’t think that. I never could. What happened to Claudine? Is she still in Hoburg? Is that why you never go home?

  “Claudine stayed in Hoburg until my father grew tired of her and moved on to the next attractive lady to catch his eye. That’s his way; he throws people away who are no more use to him, mistresses, advisers, anyone at all.”

  Astrid blinked and found the sun was making it hard for her to focus. And think. “And you, Eric, are you like that? Do you throw people away when you’re done with them, when they’ve outlived their usefulness?”

  “No, I don’t. I think when you get right down to it, I never wanted to be king because I’ve always thought that being a king meant using people, that people become…disposable.”

  Astrid reached out her hand and patted Eric’s arm. His naked skin was warm to the touch. “It may be your fa
ther’s way and your sister’s way, but it doesn’t have to be your way. When you are king you can rule however you like. You can be loyal and true to those around you.”

  Eric turned to face Astrid. “I know this sounds silly, but I never gave it much thought – not until you showed up. My sister is devious and my father robbed me of my bride. Maybe it’s time to do something about that, what do you say?”

  “Do you mean that? If you’re willing to stand up for your throne and for the people of Rogandal, I will fight at your side. I know all the tricks and I can play just as dirty as your sister and your father.”

  “You’re a real ‘fight fire with fire’ kind of girl, aren’t you?”

  “Only if you promise to make me proud, to make a great king one day.”

  “I promise, but I’ve told you my story, the truth behind my madness. Now you have to answer my questions. I’ve bared my soul to you; now it’s your turn.”

  The alcohol in the margaritas, the warm day and having Eric at her side was proving to be potent combination. Astrid had sworn not to let him back into her heart, but he was creeping slowly but surely back inside. She knew she was going to have to put an end to it, but she decided that an afternoon spent enjoying his company couldn’t hurt.

  She nodded and laughed. “You have plied me with alcohol. What is your question, Your Highness?”

  “Cordelia. Why did you get upset about her?”

  “Who said I did?” giggled Astrid.

  “You did. You told me you were mad about it only twenty minutes ago. Remember?”

  Astrid felt the color rise to her cheeks, “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Time to tell me the truth.”

  “If you must know, I felt betrayed.”

  “Betrayed? How?”

  “I do all the work, and you ask her for a date – some girl who was hired because of her family connections, and not because she is competent at anything but make-up and clothes.”

 

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