The bullet pinged off the queen like a pebble. “Auggie could have benefited from a nanny. He might have understood obligation rather than just his own entitlement to be happy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being happy.”
“It comes with a cost,” she said. “Especially as king.”
“I agreed to having a nanny as long as I get final say. That was the deal. When I find one that I like, I’ll let you know.”
She scoffed before taking a dainty sip of tea. “Just make it sooner rather than later, please.”
Honestly, who had the time? The whole week had been juggling the Masquerade Ball, while helping my mother with the most important business of all, McPhee family business.
Dash and Dallas had been enrolled in the St. Francis Academy, the finest private primary school in Aldayne. It was in Cochrann and most students lived in dormitories on campus, including Oliver Tremwell. As part of the royal family by marriage, Dash and Dallas commuted daily thanks to Sean, both to ensure their safety and protect the other students from the intense scrutiny the royals attracted.
Still, both kids could live their lives. Dash had joined the Sofia Agassi Dance Academy while Dallas was interviewing trainers for the next championship, debating seriously who she would come to represent when she could qualify for the Olympics, U.S.A. or Aldayne.
Plus, there was her very first crush, Oliver.
There was a lot to keep Mom busy, so Fern and I assisted however we could.
(I supposed I really could have used a nanny to assist with Dash and Dallas, though I never would have admitted it to Old Mother.)
It didn’t help that Dad was thousands of miles away in another country. I never realized how much my mom relied on his quiet strength. She was almost lost without him, fretting all the time about him as he faced his family alone. He called us regularly, but the news wasn’t great. The Pruitts would talk all day long to Christopher Tyler but wouldn’t even meet with Dad or their favorite grandson, Archer.
New headlines started to appear, suggesting the royal family of Aldayne was trying to pressure them to keep their mouths shut. “We answer to a higher power,” the good reverend Seth Pruitt had said.
“Yeah, PING,” I had said, tossing my phone across the table.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Fern advised. “That’s what they want. They’re bubble-busters. That’s all they do.”
“They’re not the problem,” I said. “They’re simply the gun. Someone else has his hand on the trigger.”
Thanks to Christopher, PING was officially on #RoyalBabyWatch. He couldn’t step foot in the country, but his colleagues could come and go as they damn well pleased. We were hounded whenever we left Castlewick. Since we had never listed an official due date, all they knew was that I could deliver in November.
None of them wanted to waste one minute, especially since PING had already tossed it out there that I looked like I was about to pop. Articles were starting to suggest that I might just deliver earlier than we said.
It made me turn away from Auggie on more than one occasion, even after Dr. Hamish examined me again and assured me that I was only dilated one centimeter and 0% effaced. “Your body is preparing for the big day,” she said. “But we’re not there yet.”
And that was another thing filling our schedule. We were taking birthing classes, despite the fact we planned to deliver through a scheduled C-section. But these were the pretenses we had to uphold around my fake due date.
That weekend, when the new horses were delivered to Castlewick, I was too tired to go see them. “Auggie will take you,” I told my extremely disappointed little brother before a long-overdue and much needed nap.
There was no napping through Hurricane Dashiell when he returned to the house that afternoon.
“I rode my first horse! I rode my first horse!” he said, jumping up on my bed.
“Sat astride,” Auggie corrected as he came into the room. “I led him around the paddock.”
“Still, it was riding.”
I sat up. “I’m sure you were great, Dashie. But don’t you want to wait until Dad gets home to see you ride?”
“I want to surprise him,” Dash said. “He sounds so sad when he calls.”
Auggie and I shared a look before he sat on the bed next to Dash. “He probably misses us all very much.”
“Yeah,” Dash agreed. “Can we practice some more tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” Auggie conceded. “But you have to do your homework and brush your teeth.”
“I’ll do it now!” Dash decided as he climbed down off the bed. “I’ll do it double!” he promised while racing to the door.
Auggie stared after him, a wistful look on his handsome face. “Can you imagine that’s going to be Jack in six years?”
I laughed. “No. I can’t.”
I spread my hand across my tummy. It was so big with all kinds of stretch marks to prove it.
“Racing stripes,” Auggie had called them as he worshiped every single one.
Still, it was hard to believe the tiny being in my womb would one day be Dash’s size, or even Auggie’s size. It just didn’t seem possible.
But I was living in a palace and married to a prince. As it turned out, literally anything was possible.
Nothing would prove that like the following week when I was flying between Castlewick and Greystone as we prepared the 12th century castle for the ball. The featured musical acts flew in over the week, coming out to Greystone to rehearse on the huge stage we had constructed for the occasion.
There was Vanni, of course. Andy and the kids had stayed at home this trip, but his faithful assistant, Meghan, was by his side. I tried not to judge the situation too harshly. By all appearances everything was on the up and up. But it was no secret how crazy she was for him. I couldn’t read his feelings in response. I supposed having juggled so many personas throughout his career, he was quite adept playing his true feelings close to the vest.
Tonos de Oro had flown in from New York City. Auggie had requested them specifically, though they were no longer under Graham’s label like most of the other singers, including Eli Blake, Jace Riga and Jordi Hemphill.
Also returning for the party was Alex and Rachel Fullerton, representing Titan Resort in Noxbury, co-sponsors of the affair.
I met with all these illustrious guests over that week that was cram-packed with decisions to make and things to coordinate.
It got to the point that Auggie had to fly out from Shimmering Falls all the way to Greystone if he wanted to see me at all. It didn’t escape my notice that once he got around all his fellow musicians, he came alive like I hadn’t seen since he was performing on tour.
The way they talked shop, comparing instruments and inspirations, discussing music theory in terms that went way over my head, it was like a spark lit inside those brilliant green eyes of his.
When he’d sit with me, I could hear him singing the familiar songs under his breath, as if he couldn’t control the music inside him. He made suggestions, good suggestions, that the guest artists were all too willing to consider. Every single one of them incorporated something he proposed into their performance.
That night, when heartburn woke me up at a little past midnight, I discovered that his side of the bed was empty. I knew there was only one place he could be. I went downstairs to the music conservatory.
The outer wall facing the lake featured floor-to-ceiling windows, which, coupled with the high beamed ceilings over three stories above, opened up the space for the beautiful sound coming from the white grand piano on the other side of the room.
I watched him play for a moment, sitting there on the bench, clad only in his pajama bottoms and a robe open to show his chest. His bare feet worked the pedals as he tossed that lovely auburn mane back so that he could lose himself in the music. He was somewhere else. Somewhere better. Somewhere magical.
Which was damn odd to think given the luxury of this fairy tale palace.
> Finally, I walked towards the piano. He glanced up as if he sensed me nearby. Our eyes locked and held as he played a tune I had never heard before. I knew without asking he was composing it as he played. It was operatic and beautiful and filled the room full of glorious music.
His fingers fell still, and the music faded away to a sad echo. He said nothing. He simply took a sip from the glass of wine he had sitting on top of the piano.
“That was beautiful,” I said. “Is it new?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. Just playing around.”
I sat next to him. “Seeing everyone play tonight really whet your appetite.”
He grinned at me. “You know me so well already.”
“You don’t have to stop,” I said. “Play me something.”
He thought for a moment before he played an old ballad of his, singing me the words so tenderly they almost felt brand new. I rewarded him with a kiss when he was done. He grinned as I pulled away.
“You know what this reminds me of?”
I nodded with a smile. “That first night at Fifty Oaks. You were this sexy, dangerous, bad boy rocker. You were going to seduce me. And you were going to succeed.”
He laughed. “What do you mean ‘going to’?” He bent for another kiss. As it started to heat up between us, I pulled back. We weren’t on Mercy Island anymore. We had a houseful of family now.
“Can’t do that here, Your Highness,” I warned with a grin. “Not now. Not anymore.”
He surveyed my face with a frustrated growl. “I should have taken you then. Repeatedly,” he added, punctuating each word with a tantalizing kiss.
I offered a sexy pout. “Is a bed too boring for the Duke of Mayhem?”
He caught my bottom lip between his teeth before a tantalizing peck. “Not if you’re in it.” He tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed me so hard I nearly got tipsy from the wine on his tongue. “Take me to bed, wife.”
“Chase me, husband,” I challenged, scooting off the piano bench.
With another playful growl, my sexy Duke rounded the bench and chased me all the way back up to our room.
Chapter Twelve
That Friday, Auggie and I and the rest of the McPhees headed to Greystone. The ball wasn’t until the following day, but there was still so much work left to do that it made little sense to travel back and forth from Castlewick. We decided instead to make a weekend of it. Since it was one of the royal homes, we had that option.
After spending a significant amount of time there before the wedding, we went back to the private rooms we had already assumed previously, with Auggie joining me in mine.
“I was single the last time I was in this room,” I told him, walking into his arms.
“Then I have a lot to make up for, don’t I?” he grinned. I nodded and stole a kiss.
Despite our flirty banter, we left the room shortly after to find my mom. Since Dad was still in the States, she was a lot lonelier than usual. It was like her light dimmed a little without him. Dallas and Dash reacted similarly, with everyone a lot more sedate than usual, despite the festive occasion.
I had given them tasks to do just to keep their minds off things, which had worked out well so far. That night, when Jorge and Clementine arrived, they brought a little of the party with them. Jorge kicked up the disco and even my mom couldn’t resist. “Nobody can be depressed listening to disco,” I reminded her. She nodded with a grateful smile.
To make things even better, Dad joined in thanks to video conferencing just so she wouldn’t have to sing solo in our traditional McPhee karaoke battle.
They sang Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. It was adorable.
She still made an early night of it, as did the kids. From the terrace, Auggie and I watched Fern and Gav practice their dance routine for the Ball to spotlight the Sofie Agassi Dance Academy. They were going to be in body paint in head to toe. Their dance routine, appropriately titled Wild, would reenact the story of Where the Wild Things Are to Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side, with Dash portraying Max and Fern and Gav among the Wild Things.
Jorge went to bed extra early because this was going to test his makeup skills like no event before.
Auggie and I decided to make an early night of it as well. My back was giving me fits thanks to our busy couple of weeks. Part of me couldn’t wait to get past the ball just so I could get some much-needed rest before Jack arrived. He was only days away now, but I was too busy to think much about it.
Though he had set the mood in the bedroom with candlelight, I was practically snoring when we cuddled into bed that night. My sweet husband forfeited cuddles so that he could use those magic hands against my aching muscles. I had already nodded off somewhere near dreamland when I felt him nudging me awake.
“Peaches,” he said, his voice sharp.
I blinked awake. “What is it?”
“That’s my question.” He tossed something onto the bed. I tried to focus my eyes on something small and shiny. When I realized what it was, I shot up in bed.
It was the locket from Cillian, opened to Christopher’s face.
My eyes shot to Auggie’s. Rage burned just below the surface.
I sighed. “It was a gift. From Cillian.”
“What? When?”
“The day before our wedding. He dropped it off personally.”
He planted on the bed. “So, he knows.”
“He doesn’t know anything. Not for sure.”
“Not yet,” he corrected. He turned to me. “Why didn’t you tell me about this, Pea?”
“I was going to,” I tried to explain. “After the wedding. There was no point in this stupid gift ruining the day for both of us.”
His jaw clenched. “It was ruined?”
“No,” I said as I grabbed for his hand. “That’s the point. It was so beautiful I completely forgot about it till we got to Mercy Island. And by then I didn’t want anything to wreck our honeymoon.”
“I told you about Benji,” he said softly.
“How could I add to that?” I asked him. I almost hated to ask. “Where did you find it?”
His jaw clenched again. “That’s your question?” I gulped hard. “It was in the corner of the room,” he said with a nod that direction, near the armoire where his suitcase sat.
Unlike the rest of us, he had no change of clothes here except for what he would wear for the Ball.
“I saw something shiny and I bent to find this,” he held it up. “Opened, by the way. Anyone could have found it, Peaches.”
That he called me by my full name wasn’t a good sign.
“I was so startled when I opened it that I threw it across the room,” I explained.
He nodded. He stared at the locket, into Christopher’s smiling face. “He keeps turning up, doesn’t he?”
I mirrored his nod. “Like a bad penny.”
Auggie opened the locket and removed the picture. He then stood as he approached the candles on the nightstand. He held it over a flame until Christopher’s hateful face disappeared. Once it was reduced to ash, he handed the locket back to me. “Here.”
I recoiled. “I don’t want it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I want you to wear it tomorrow anyway.”
My jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He never dropped his hand. “I’m not kidding. You’ll wear it. And he’ll see it. And he’ll know that he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he would.”
“Auggie,” I started, struggling with the words to tell him about the note.
“I’ll find a picture of me to put in it if you like.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I sighed. “There was a note,” I finally admitted.
“Go on,” he prodded after my long pause.
“He said that he had made a mistake underestimating me and that he wouldn’t do it again.” I glanced up at Auggie, who waited, sensing there was more.
“He said I shouldn’t underestimate him either. Especially come Halloween.”
He visibly paled. He stumbled back and I pulled myself out of bed as gracefully as possible, which wasn’t graceful at all. “How could he know?” he asked.
“They have a pretty good idea of the conception date,” I reminded. “There was only the one time.” Thank God, I added mentally.
“We can’t have Jack on Halloween,” he said. “We’re going to have to delay it.”
I chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way, Auggie.”
“You’re scheduled to have a C-section. Just have it the following day or a few days after that. Dr. Hamish already said you’re not ready to deliver and it could be a week away yet. She said first babies can be born late, remember?”
“Honey,” I started, taking his hands in mine.
“I’m not losing you, Pea. You or Jack. Got it?”
I nodded. Our eyes locked and held. “Okay,” I said.
“Okay?” he repeated.
I took the locket from his hands. “Okay,” I said again.
He nodded. “Okay.” He leaned forward for a kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, with extra oomph so he wouldn’t doubt it. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “I’m too wired now.” He stood. “I’m going to go for a little walk. Clear my head.”
“Now?”
He nodded. He said nothing as we held our gaze for a moment. Finally, he bent to kiss my forehead. “Get some sleep.”
I nodded and said nothing more as I watched him walk from the room. I lay awake for nearly another hour, tossing and turning, waiting for him to return. I fell asleep before he ever came back.
I woke up sometime in the night to go to the bathroom. He was laid out beside me on the bed, on top of the covers. A wine glass sat on the table next to the bed, where all the candles had been blown out.
I caressed his back before I slid out of bed. The poor guy. This was the perfect way for Cillian to get to him. If he went after me, it was two birds with one stone. He could fuck with me, but also dig his finger in that deep wound left behind by that cold-hearted betrayal so many years ago.
The Duke Takes a Bride (The Rocking Royal Trilogy Book 2) Page 12