“The most sensible thing you have said all day,” Wesley said, and Enola glanced toward Jacob.
What a mess this was.
CHAPTER TEN
WHO WE WERE
WHO WE WERE
Are there any more secrets any of you want to release?” Jacob said as he looked between all of them. Harold held his gaze. For a man who’d just learned that he had been severely deceived, he seemed re-markedly trusting again.
“I promise you, none of this deception was going to affect the battle. It had nothing to do with this situation. It was to protect us.”
Enola glanced between all of them, and then nodded to Jacob. “I trust them,” she said. “There is nothing more.” She spoke plainly, her heart on her sleeve.
“I had a pet dog named Spot,” Holde said, and everyone turned to him in surprise. “I just thought, since we were sharing secrets.”
Enola laughed, and the others followed. Holde actually managed a smile at that, and Enola saw a glimpse of who he used to be. A good man, with a good heart, whose eyes twinkled frequently. Now, there was mainly sadness behind his blue orbs, as if they weighed on his very soul.
“When Enola was a child, she thought that fish could come out of the water and beat up the birds, so she was afraid of them.”
“Jacob!” Enola turned back to him, blushing bright red. It was one time, one moment, and she thought about punching him in the shoulder. She decided that wouldn't be very dignified, especially when she was trying to impress Holde.
The thought shocked her. She was trying to impress him? When had that happened?
“I thought we were sharing secrets,” he protested and she rolled her eyes.
“About yourself, Jacob. Honestly.”
“Well, now that we all know each other intimately,” Lola said. “Perhaps you all want to attend the after party tonight? It is opening night, after all.”
“Typical of you, Lola, to do something like that in the middle of a war.”
“Attend an after party after a job well done?” She raised an eyebrow at her husband. “Yes, quite. That is why this isn't working, by the way. I would like to have some amusement every once in a while, whereas you cannot see outside the logical box that you are in.”
“Lola,” Aaron said and gave her a look. “We can have some fun with you if you want. But this isn't like at home. We're off the ship, but we are at work.”
“Mm,” she raised an eyebrow. “Unless there is a better plan?”
“We could have a different celebration,” Enola surprised herself by speaking up. Jacob turned to her.
“Are you sure this is the time to bring this up? You do not want to think about it some more?”
“You know that this is the only way,” Enola replied. “And now that the truth is out, it is time for me to tell mine.”
“Should I leave?” Lola asked, unsure of what was happening. However, Enola had a plan. If the actress could pull off a fake death, she could surely pull off a fake wedding.
“No,” she said. “If they trust you, so do I. My people may not like the idea of being involved in the war, but they will stick to their beliefs and their alliances. They will protect their own. My choices will not sway their opinions. I am still of their blood, not British. But if I was bound to the British, by blood or by marriage...they would have to defend what would be one of their own.”
Silence fell over the room.
“You need to marry one of us?” Aaron said, at last.
“I do not need to,” Enola replied. “We can take our chances. But it is the only way I can promise it will work.”
“That is a life-changing decision, Enola,” Jacob said.
“It is,” she said. “And if it were a Native ceremony, I would say that it is for life. But it will be a British ceremony, and you have divorce, do you not?”
“Not something we take lightly,” Jacob said. “But thanks to Henry VII, we do have that.”
“So it is slightly less than for life,” she said.
“So we find some private who...” Aaron started, and Enola looked up in shock.
“A private? No. I am a princess; they will never believe it. I need an officer, at the very least.”
“Aye,” Aaron glanced toward Lola. “And you want my actress to make it look like a real romance?”
“It has to be a real marriage,” Enola replied. “Even if it ends.”
“I can do that,” Lola said. “And if it is for the good of the British cause, of course. But uh...” she looked around. “Many of the high ranking officers are already married.”
“I know,” Enola replied.
“Are you married?” Lola turned to Jacob.
“This is my sister,” he said. “Or as good as. There are some things I will not do, for the good of the cause or not.”
“Right,” Lola replied. “So that leaves...” All eyes fell on Major Holde.
Enola knew how much it would affect him, and she did not want to put him on the spot. He was the only answer, but his heart was still torn over his wife.
“No,” he said. “No.”
“It will not be real,” she said, speaking only to him. “I do not want to be married, ever. However, I see no other way. It will simply be for the cause and then we can...dissolve it.”
“I...” He looked between all of them, and then straightened up. “I can't. I am sorry.”
Enola did not expect him to leave at the speed that he did, but he practically bolted from the room. She bit her lip, looking to Jacob, who shook his head.
“Let him go,” he said. “He knows what cards are on the table now.”
“I could arrange it in one of the churches,” Lola said. “They are not much to look at yet, but I am sure that we could do it up nicely.”
“He has to agree,” Enola said. “So until then...”
“We are in limbo,” Annabelle said. “What is in his heart?”
“He lost his wife,” Enola said. “And he loved her very much.”
“Aye, that will do it,” Annabelle replied. “Can we enjoy one last night, my love, before we must march from the camp, one way or another?”
Harold sighed. “Possibly,” he said. “But if that is the working plan, and I can see that it is a good one...we need to decide and soon. Colonel Evenclear is already upset that we are questioning his plan, and we need to get him a better answer, and soon.”
“Good,” Lola proclaimed and clapped her hands. “Then that is what we'll do. It is down in the lobby, about three0 minutes from now. I'll see you there.”
“It is not every day we get invited to a theatre party,” Jacob said to Enola as they exited. “And if Lady Bamber is right, this is our one last chance to enjoy ourselves before we march into battle.”
“I can't,” she said to him. “Did you see the look in his eyes? I cannot leave him like that, not when I am responsible.”
“Enola...” he said, but she shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I'll go back to the camp. You stay here, you deserve a night off. But do not come begging at my tent for peppermint at dawn, do you hear?”
“What do you take me for, a drunken pirate lord?” He gave her a smile as the others gathered down the hallway, whispering amongst themselves. “It will be alright. But you should not go back alone.”
“Do you remember how I used to hunt by myself by the moon for hours?” she asked. “I think it will be fine.”
“Aye, but you do not have a bow on you this time,” he pointed out.
“I am not a British Lady,” she defended. “You do not need to protect me at every moment.”
“Does he know that marrying you will make him a prince?” Jacob asked, and she shrugged.
“I doubt he has considered that yet. If he considers it at all, really.”
“Maybe you should start with that,” Jacob said. “Who does not want to be a prince?”
“Lots of people,” Enola replied. “An equal amount do not want to be born a princess in
to nobility. You have no idea, Jacob.”
“I do not,” he admitted. “Godspeed to you.”
“Aye,” she said, and headed down the stairs to the lobby. She could already see champagne glasses getting set up, and white gloved waiters pouring glistening liquids. This was a world she felt so odd in; so foreign and so unwelcome. She could feel all eyes on her as she exited the building and headed into the dark street.
She was not a British Lady, and she never would be. She did not need protection; she did not need a husband and she certainly did not need a large ceremony.
However, this was her land, and she did need it to still exist; to have access to it. Her whole soul was in this land; in the trees that she passed. She needed to fight for it, as much as any of them did.
She did not even think about entering the darkened path by the forest, lit by the moonlight and glistened by the stars. It was just natural; the place she belonged. She felt her body relax, her heart open and her soul start to wrap around the greenery The moon overhead was full, telling her the day to come would be cool but full of joy. She brushed her fingers up against the flowers, and made sure not to break any. Taking life for no purpose was considered a violation against the very life force that she drew strength from. Currently, they needed all the life that they could get.
She understood that war was necessary, although she wished that it was not. She could barely remember a time when there was peace; when the world did not cry blood in every river.
She just wanted to heal the broken spirits around her. The one that she wanted to heal most of all, of course, was Major Holde. His pain had caught her attention from the moment he walked into the camp. He was so handsome, so strong, and yet his heart was clearly in a million pieces. She wished she could show him more than pain, more than grief, more than death.
She was so busy thinking of him that she did not realize that she nearly ran into him.
He was standing by the stream, simply staring into it, unmoving. His coat was off, and his shirt was half open, exposing his broad chest. He took her breath away, his eyes caught in the moonlight.
“Hello,” he said, as if he sensed her there. “I had a feeling you would come here.”
“I am sorry,” she said. “If I made you uncomfortable.”
“It was not you,” he said. “I felt ashamed that a woman such as yourself would be willing to dedicate so much for the cause, and yet I tear up at the very thought of it. I...the thought of marrying someone would not have bothered me...if I did not...” He took a deep breath. “If I did not have some feelings already. Forgive me.”
“Oh,” Enola said. She did not expect him to say that, but her heart soared.
“I do not know...if I am capable of anything,” he said. “I am so broken. But I can try. For you. The cause. To end the war.”
“To end the war,” she whispered and squeezed his hand, and he did not pull away. “We can both try. However, you must promise that we are equals. I cannot be under the control of a man, and I will not be.”
“We will be equal,” he promised her. “If anything, I will need to take my strength from you. For as long as it lasts.”
“For as long as it lasts,” she replied, staring into the stream. She was not sure how long that would be. However, she would try as long as she needed to, as long as the war had a chance of ending by their joined hands.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NIGHT IS DARKEST
THE NIGHT IS DARKEST
Miss Lola Montclair!” someone announced as she appeared at the top of the stairs, and people burst into wild applause She blushed as she made her way down the grand lobby stairs into the waiting crowd, smiling her publicity smile. She knew she had to greet half a hundred people right now, but all she wanted to do was speak to her friends, who she had been apart from forever, or so it felt.
She also felt guilty that she had been introduced like that with her husband right there. Despite the fact that they did not know any different; she should have corrected them. Once upon a time, she might have. Now, she avoided Wesley's glance as she floated down the stairs, taking hands and kissing cheeks. Some of the people knew her name from before they moved; others were dazzled for the first time. Either way, she could not let expression falter, not for a moment. It was a mask she wore; as much a figurative as a literal one.
“She looks dazzling,” Annabelle said and Harold kissed her on the cheek.
“You do not look so bad yourself, milady.”
“My Harold, you have gotten bold,” Aaron said. “I remember when you would barely look her in the eye.”
“Aye, a lot has changed,” Harold said, and then regretted it as soon as he said it. “I am sorry.”
“A lot has changed,” Aaron confirmed, and although his expression did not falter, his eyes darkened. He changed the subject, turning to Wesley, who already had a glass of champagne in his hand. “And what did you think of your wife's performance?”
“Lola pretending to be someone else?” Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Same old, same old.”
“Wesley,” Aaron said. “One night, let's be nice, huh?”
“We're not on the ship,” Wesley answered as Lola approached.
She still had on her stage makeup. It was thick, her eyes and cheekbones exaggerated as the pale, wide eyed Ophelia. Her Hamlet was already the life of the party, and theatrical etiquette dictated that she should be glued to his side. Instead, she ducked under an arm and a glass or two until she found herself in front of them.
“Well?” she asked, half breathless. “What did you think?”
“Enchanting,” Annabelle said. “My heart went out to poor Ophelia. Hamlet is a sod.”
Lola laughed, her eyes sparkling. Talking about performing was always the way to bring up her mood. “He is, isn't he?” she asked. “But my partner, he is lovely. I find it hard to be cross with him, honestly.”
“Oh, I would not put it past you,” Wesley spoke up, draining his champagne glass. “Would you, Aaron?”
“Uh,” Aaron said, not wanting to be put in the middle of such a quarrel.
“By the way, I am your husband, and colony or not, I outrank you.”
“What?” Lola's jaw dropped. This was so out of character for Wesley that she wondered if he had been body snatched. Of course, the amount of liquor on his breath told her that his brain might have melted. He never cared about his rank; he tried to hide it when they’d first met. What had happened to the timid brilliant mind she had married?
“Wesley,” this time Harold spoke up. “This is neither the time nor the place.”
“Do not tell me how to treat my wife,” Wesley snapped. “I can speak to her any way I damn well please.”
“Not my husband,” Lola was strong. “The man I married would never speak to me that way.”
“The man you married had not seen the things I have seen,” Wesley snapped back.
“Tá seseo conas a thit tú i ngrá le, Lola,” Aaron said, softly, reminding him that it was her acting career that made them meet in the first place. However, even in Wesley's native tongue, he would not be calmed; a raging drunk tiger who had a year of fighting come to a head.
“No,” he said. “The woman I loved did not act like she could do as she pleased, no matter the shame, no matter my wishes.”
“The woman you married told you that exactly,” Lola reminded him. “We did not get married for so long because I had to be sure you would accept my career, and I yours. Or has the alcohol wiped that from your memory?”
Wesley's jaw clenched, and Aaron and Harold both grabbed him by the arms, which caused him to lash out. “Unhand me.”
“No, mate, you are going outside,” Aaron said, as he half dragged him. Annabelle ducked back toward Lola, and a scuffle occurred that drew that attention of everyone. The whole party watched as the Irish pirate was dragged out between his captain and the British noble.
“Oh God,” Lola said as she laid her head against Annabelle's shoulder. “What h
as happened?”
“Ssh, he is drunk,” Annabelle said. “There's no reasoning with any man when he is like that.”
“Well, unless he has been drunk for a year straight, it really does not explain things,” Lola said. “I am glad our new friends have not seen that, at least. Where's the handsome captain?”
“Gone after Enola, I imagine,” Annabelle said. “Unless he has taken a bottle to the corner as well. Which would not surprise me, given how this day has gone.”
“I do not envy her,” Lola said. “Despite what is happening now, I married Wesley because I wanted to. I could not imagine a marriage because I had to.”
“She is smart,” Annabelle said. “It seems like she has it figured out, one way or another.”
“One way or another,” Lola echoed, taking a deep breath. Despite the fact that people stared at her on stage all day, she hated them staring at her now. Her cheeks were on fire, and she wanted to disappear into a hole in the floor. “Do you want to go up to my dressing room? I feel I need a few quiet moments.”
“Of course,” Annabelle said, looking after her husband and brother. The ladies turned, picking up their skirts as they ascended the staircase. Both women tried to pretend that all was well, chatting casually as they went.
“It is been so busy, I have not had a chance to ask,” Lola said. “How is Aaron? Has he been well? His letters seem normal, but I always worry.”
“From what I can tell,” Annabelle replied. “A fit here or there, but nowhere near as intense as it was. It seems being captain of his own ship has done him well.”
“Of course it has,” Lola said. “When you are the one in charge, you can listen to your body; make your own life. As long as he is captain, I imagine he will be fine. But Shauna and Kirsten must miss him?”
“He visits them as often as he can; as often as he used to,” Annabelle replied. “Mostly in the country house, staying far away from the public. No one sees him come and go. It is a risk, of course, but I am not going to deny him that pleasure.”
How To Love A Fake Prince (The Regency Renegades - Beauty and Titles) (A Regency Romance Story) Page 8