Eric grimaced. “I see your point. Well, with the wedding only days away, whoever is responsible will have to reveal themselves soon.”
“I take no comfort in that,” said Astrid. “I only wish Ahmad and you were not going to get hurt before this scandal burns itself out. I can disappear back into private life, but neither you nor he can.”
“Astrid, when you speak of him, you say his name as though you still had feelings for him. Do you?” he sounded as though he was trying very hard to be neutral.
She hid a smile. “He was the first man I thought I was in love with. I will always care about him, but I didn’t love him the way I love you. Was it any different for you and Claudine?”
“No. I wouldn’t want to see her get hurt by any bad press about me, so I understand. Please forgive me for suggesting that you were still in love with him.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. We have both loved before; I only hope my first love doesn’t cost us our future.”
* * *
Astrid sat beside Eric on the settee, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her as she stared at the phone.
“We have to go down, even if we don’t know who is behind this attack. We have no choice – it will look worse if we do nothing and hide.”
“You’re right; we can’t hide. We have to face this challenge. Eric, if you have to break off our engagement, I understand. I don’t want anything to hurt you, not now. You’ve come too far.”
“No, you’re wrong. We’ve come this far together. I wouldn’t be here, back in Rogandal, without you. The people of Rogandal will still want you, and you’ll be the finest queen they’ve ever known, kind and generous, strong and brave. You didn’t leave me in Grenada when my own friends and family abandoned me in that jail, and I won’t leave you now. We’ll be married – whether it’s in the cathedral in the capital or on the deck of Freja.”
“Eric, do you mean that? Truly? I would never ask you to give up anything for me.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I would be nothing without you. You’ve been loyal to me when there was no one else on my side, and you have shown me what true love is. I’m lucky to have your love, and I won’t surrender it without a fight.”
Eric brushed the tear from Astrid’s face, kissing her cheek. “You don’t want to ruin your make-up, you look far too beautiful this evening to let this garbage ruin our night. Come with me. Let’s go downstairs, and if anyone says anything out of line, we’ll show them how true royals handle things. Chin up.”
Astrid nodded, and sniffled. She hoped Fayed would be able to warn his brother in time, so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. If Eric was willing to stand by her side, then she would hold her head high and brave the storm. Whoever was trying to destroy her reputation would not find her to be a woman ashamed of her love for Ahmad or her friendship with his family. Her only concern was for her future husband.
Astrid smoothed her dress, running her hands along the blue silk, watching the beads glitter in the light. Glancing at the mirror above the mantle, she found her make-up had, surprisingly, not smeared, and she looked as polished as she had when the lady’s maid finished only a few minutes earlier.
Running her fingers through the soft waves of her hair, she heard the familiar sound of her phone vibrating on the coffee table. Eric picked it up and handed it to her, his hand brushing against hers, a smile spreading across his face.
Astrid answered the phone and listened intently, all her attention focused on the clipped sentences her contact at the British Intelligence office was able to whisper before he had to end the call. Staring at Eric blankly, her eyes wide with shock, she did not know how to tell him the truth.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“It was my contact in London. He told me who is responsible for the story about me in the foreign press. He said it was published by a press agency out of Jordan.”
“It was Princess Serena, then? That should be easily remedied – that woman was no saint. There must be dirt we can dig up on her,” replied Eric.
“It wasn’t Serena or your sister – it was your father. Your father is responsible for this story getting to the press.”
“My father? Are you certain?”
“Yes. That contact was from British Intelligence, there can be no doubt that it is accurate.”
“Why won’t he let me have something in my life? He’s done everything he could to ruin my life and my happiness at every turn. First Claudine, then making me go head to head against my own sister for the throne. Now, he wants to ruin our wedding, to destroy your good name, and the name of Prince Ahmad?” Eric fumed as he walked away from Astrid.
His back to her, he stood at the window. “This ends tonight.”
“Eric, what do you intend to do? He’s your father…and the king.”
Eric turned to her, his face red and his expression as firm as stone, “Don’t worry about what I intend to do – he won’t harm you, or anyone else.”
Astrid quietly asked, “What should we do? Should we leave tonight?”
“No. I was once content to do that, and I will leave Rogandal if that is the will of the people, but we will not run. Those days are over; I will never run away from my problems ever again. We’ll stay and fight, and I know just how to do it. If he wants a war, he’ll get one,” said Eric. “Here, take my hand. We have a dinner party to attend. We’re the guests of honor and we’ll act like it. We won’t be the ones to bury our heads in the sand – we’ve done nothing wrong.”
Astrid placed her hand in Eric’s. He squeezed it gently and smiled at her, saying, “You look beautiful tonight. You are the princess that this country needs, and you’ll be the princess that Rogandal welcomes when we are wed in the cathedral.”
Chapter 18
Eric stood beside Astrid in the library as the king of Rogandal stormed into the room, his face twisted with fury.
“What is the meaning of this? To drag me away from my guests during a state dinner in your honor, might I remind you?”
“Father, this ends tonight. You have tried to destroy everything I cared for in my life, but I will not let you destroy Astrid, or Ahmad, for your selfish purposes,” Eric said as he glared as his father.
“What the devil are you talking about? This is ridiculous,” said the king.
“Is it? You swore to Astrid only a few hours ago that she would regret crossing you, and now a story leaks to the press accusing her of being a prostitute. Was it your idea, or Serena’s father’s? Did you both have plans for a Rogandal-Jordan marriage?”
“Eric, stop being a child. You still have time to walk away from this mistake. You can still marry Serena and ensure the prosperity of our family for generations to come.”
Eric gaped. “So you admit it?”
The king glared at Astrid. “Admit it? Yes, I do. Lady Willoughby, there was a time I considered inviting you to become my mistress. I knew you were ambitious and I liked how forceful you were, I found your confidence quite attractive. When I look at you tonight all I see is a well-paid streetwalker who is going to cost me and my family a fortune. Do you hear me? If you have any hope of salvaging your reputation, I suggest you break off this engagement, tonight.”
Eric stepped dangerously close to his father, and Astrid made the decision that she had been trying to avoid. “You will have the story retracted, every word. Do you hear me?”
Eric and his father turned to face her, both staring at her with expressions of shock.
“And you will break off the engagement?” The king didn’t even try to veil his triumph.
Astrid stood straight and tall. She looked the king in the eye and quietly replied, “Not on your life.”
The king barked a laugh. “What can you offer me that would make me want to do something like that? I no longer want you as a mistress, although it wouldn’t be the first time I have taken one of Eric’s women for my own.”
Astrid placed a hand on Eric’s arm, and spoke over the angry growl
coming from him. “You will retract that story or I will embarrass you and your daughter, and erode all trust in the royal family of this nation.”
“What can you do?” asked the king. “Who are you? The daughter of an English Lord, a well-paid member of the staff? What could you possibly have on me?”
“You are a foolish old man,” she answered coolly. “You only saw what I wanted you to see: a woman who made it her business to save the reputations of the last royals in the world, to restore confidence in this ancient form of government. I am a loyalist through and through, and I have made it my personal responsibility to save royals who would make their countries better, and take their noble responsibilities seriously. Did you think I could do all of that on my own? Were you that naïve?”
“Astrid, what do you mean?” asked Eric.
“Yes, what do you mean by this? Hurry, I don’t have all day to waste listening to you,” said the king, disgusted.
Astrid took a deep breath. “I’ve never worked alone. My work is important and I am supported by people you would consider unimportant, people who keep me well informed. We are the backbone of the last royal families of the world, and you would do well to remember that.”
“Informed of what? I have nothing to hide.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I did not want to expose the dirty secrets of this family but you’ve left me with no choice. You will retract that story, you will order the reporter and the news agency to issue an immediate apology to the Saudi royal family, and to me, or I will expose your and your daughter’s involvement in the embezzlement of funds from the Royal Rogandal Charitable Foundation.”
“You don’t know what you’re taking about,” said the king as Eric looked at his father with disgust.
“Father, is this true? That foundation was meant to help terminally ill children and their families, to provide housing for elderly citizens, and fund cancer research. Have you been stealing from it? Has my sister?”
“You have no proof, none at all. All you have is your word against mine.”
“You are quite mistaken; the British government has a file on all of the illegal activity for the charity. Living off the tax money of your people and profits from their toil is one thing – but stealing from terminally ill children is quite another. Retract the story, stop the embezzlement, and no one will know about it. If you cause any more trouble for me, Eric, or the Saudi royal family, you will see the monarchy in your country destroyed, and you will be held accountable, ruined and disgraced at your age. You’ll spend your last days in prison.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said the king.
“Do you want to take that chance? I have nothing to lose, but you have everything to lose – you decide, you have less than a minute.”
“You wouldn’t ruin your chances of being queen.”
“I don’t care about being queen. You underestimate me, like you underestimated your son. If the monarchy fell, he would be the first president of Rogandal. He would lead the people because they love him. They adore him. Can the same be said for you and that heartless woman you raised as a daughter?”
The king of Rogandal looked at his son and Astrid for a long moment, and finally, he chuckled, “Lady Willoughby, I see I did underestimate you. You may not come to this family with an oil company, but you are intrepid and well connected. Perhaps an alliance with your family would be in the best interest of Rogandal after all.”
“The story? What is your decision?”
“It will be retracted immediately at my command.”
Astrid smiled tightly. “You have made a wise decision. Now, I believe we are all expected at dinner; we don’t want to keep the guests waiting.”
* * *
Astrid ran her hand along the folds of the wedding gown while her mother attached the veil to the tiara. The hand-stitched embroidery of the vintage couture dress formed graceful patterns of vines and flowers against the ivory silk.
“Astrid, you could have any fashion designer make a dress for you and you chose to wear mine; that means the world to me,” said the older woman.
“Mother, I wouldn’t dream of being married in any other dress. You were a beautiful bride. As a little girl I wanted to play dress-up in this gown and be a fairytale princess, remember?”
“I remember, and you are so beautiful in it. And you’ve become a princess in your own fairy tale,” Lady Gyda Willoughby said as she adjusted the veil. “There, your veil and tiara are on. Look in the mirror.”
Astrid walked towards the full-length mirror in the suite, the silk of the regency wedding gown rustling softly as she moved. Standing in front of her own reflection, she tried not to cry with happiness.
“Astrid, I was a citizen of this country before I married your father. It is an honor to see you marry into the royal family. You will make a fine queen and I am proud of you.”
Lord Willoughby knocked on the door of the suite. “Astrid, it’s time. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Father, I’m ready. Is it too late to elope?” Astrid laughed nervously.
Lord Willoughby winked and offered her his arm. “I’m afraid so, but I can understand why you want to. Not trying to make you nervous, but there are hundreds of people out there and the world is watching. If you ran away you would probably cause an international incident. The royal navy may be dispatched.”
“Alright then, it’s too late to elope. I suppose I’d better go to the cathedral and meet Eric,” she said with a smile.
Astrid was joined by Eirinia, her matron of honor (a concession to the perceived family unity of the royal family). Her old school friends, Lady Penelope Brogden and Lady Henrietta Jones were her maids of honor. It was a small wedding party for a royal wedding, but it was as Astrid had requested.
Climbing into the gilded carriage for the ride through the capital city of Hoburg, Astrid waved to the crowds of people lining the streets and sitting on the roofs of the buildings. She tried to quell her nervousness. She was a royal bride, marrying Prince Eric of Rogandal! As a little girl, she had dreamed of growing up and marrying a real life Prince Charming, never believing it was really possible.
As the carriage slowly made its way through the streets, well-wishers clapped and cheered. Her father sat across from her, stoic as always, but she saw when he dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief he kept hidden in his vest pocket.
“Father?” she asked.
“Never mind me; I knew this day would come. I’ve always been proud of you. You are a strong, independent woman, but that doesn’t make this any easier on your old dad.”
“If you make me cry it will ruin my make-up. Can’t have that, can we?”
“Must think of appearances,” he said.
Astrid watched through the window of the carriage as the cathedral came into view. The steps were covered in blue carpet; flowers festooned the street lamps; paparazzi and reporters lined the street behind velvet ropes, held back by security. Her heart fluttered inside her chest – in a few minutes she would be marrying the man she loved in front of millions of people.
In Rogandal the day had been declared a holiday and in England, she had been told, nearly everyone was watching to see one of their own become a princess. It was a great responsibility that she was taking on, marrying a prince and becoming a royal, a responsibility she never thought would be hers.
The carriage came to stop in front of the arches and spires of the cathedral, and a footman dressed in full livery opened the door and helped her down the steps. When she appeared the crowd roared with excitement, and the cameras of the paparazzi fluttered. She took a deep breath, smiled, and waved.
Her bridesmaids assembled in front of her as Eirinia smiled for the cameras. Her father held out his arm for her. “I am afraid it is far too late to change your mind now,” he whispered.
“I wouldn’t dream of changing my mind. I love Eric and I can’t disappoint him,” she whispered as she waved to the crowd.
“He seems like a good man, althoug
h I did have my doubts when you took this assignment. Bit of a wild card, wasn’t he?”
“Just a bit,” said Astrid fondly as she remembered the first time she met Eric, a prince with a reputation for drinking, partying, and womanizing.
Placing her hand on her father’s arm, Astrid took a deep breath. Today was her wedding day and the weather was gorgeous, the sun shining brightly overhead in the blue sky made her feel like she was living a dream. As the crowds cheered and chanted her name, she vowed to live up to their expectations, to be the princess they deserved.
The antique organ played the wedding march as she gracefully walked down the center aisle. Passing the guests, she nodded at Madame Gasteau, the contessa, Prince Fayed, and several members of the British royal family. Prince Eric stood proudly at the altar with Hans, Gunter, and Captain Jorlsen at his side.
Astrid fought back tears of happiness as she approached Eric, a dashing figure in his suit, a sash across his chest pinned with the royal crest of Rogandal. As Astrid’s father gave her away to Eric, Astrid beamed with joy. Standing beside him, she forgot the world was watching. In her world, it was just Eric and her, alone in front of the bishop. Gazing into his blue eyes, her heart swelled with happiness.
With Eric at her side, she was no longer nervous, her voice calm and strong as she said her vows. She meant every word, and she intended to keep every promise she made. The Bishop pronounced them husband and wife.
The bells of the cathedral rang, and Eric embraced Astrid, his lips pressed to hers. They were married and nothing – no scandal or royal intrigue – would ever come between them. It was a magical moment Astrid could scarcely believe was real as she kissed her husband, her prince and her future king.
Taming the Rebel Prince Page 24