A Royal Affair Series: Book 1, 2, and 3: A paranormal, time travel, royal romance

by Christina George

  Peter held up his phone to show her the note from Walter: I hear nothing but great things about Emma Avery. When can she start?

  Emma couldn’t speak. She looked at the text, and then at Peter, and before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice damp.

  Peter held her and said, “I’m very sorry, Emmeline, for what’s happened. Though I have to admit that, selfishly, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

  “I know. Me too,” was all she could manage.

  “Let’s call these gossip people and put this mess behind us. What do you say? Then why don’t you, Astrid, and I have dinner together tonight in the palace?”

  Emma pulled back and shook her head. “I can’t. I need to go home.”

  Peter stroked her hair. “And I will make sure you get home, but first thing tomorrow. It’s getting late, and you’ve already had an extremely difficult day. I’d love for you to get to know Astrid. She’s like a mother to me.”

  Emma looked at his handsome face, the smile that was now etched indelibly her memory—so much so, that every time she closed her eyes she saw it and him. It was impossible for her to refuse.

  chapter 18

  After they called the journalists, Peter took Emma back to the house to find her bags and decide which of the six hundred rooms she would sleep in for the night.

  Astrid was waiting when Peter and Emma walked in, Peter’s hand on the small of Emma’s back, and Astrid beamed at them.

  “I see everything has been handled.” Then she looked at Emma, “Forgive me, Emmeline. I know you didn’t want me to tell Peter, but someone with more power than I needed to handle this mess.”

  Peter rested his hand on Astrid’s shoulder. “Astrid, I need to go finish up with my father. Would you help Emma get settled for the night? I’ve asked her to join us for dinner, the three of us. You are free?” he added with a wink.

  Astrid chuckled. “Yes, of course I’m free, and I’d love to. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Emma gets settled.”

  A footman approached them and addressed Emma. “Madam, your bags have been retrieved. If you let us know which room you’d like this evening, I’ll have the staff make it up for you.”

  “Thank you, Gregory,” Astrid said. “We’ll let you know.”

  Then she took Emma’s hand, patting it. “I know it’s overwhelming, but if you like, dear, I can make a few room recommendations. There is a lovely room overlooking the Royal Greenhouses, which are quite famous.”

  Emma looked around the entryway, and in a flash of insight, she knew what she needed to do. The idea felt scarier than anything she’d attempted before, but it was now or never.

  “Astrid, would it be all right if I sleep in Fitz and Anna-Maria’s former room?”

  Astrid looked both surprised and pleased.

  “I will admit,” Emma continued, “I’m nervous about this. I feel I need to do it, but at the same time I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “Come, let’s go sit outside and discuss it.” Astrid led her to a patio overlooking the gardens and sat down on a bench. Emma sat beside her.

  “If you like, I can stay in the next room. You know, in case you need help.”

  Emma shook her head, “No, it’s not like that. I mean, whatever happened then won’t hurt me, but I’m so worried about what I might learn.”

  “I understand, dear, but you are right. It’s important for you to do this. You understand that, do you not?”

  “I do. For whatever odd reason, I do understand it’s important.”

  Astrid’s eyes twinkled, and she said, “Peter used to sleep in the children’s room until his mother insisted he go back to his regular room.”

  “You’re kidding. You mean where Noah and Fleur slept?”

  Astrid nodded. “You have met the children, then?”

  Emma could barely contain her smile. “They are the most beautiful children I’ve ever seen, Astrid, and they’re incredibly bright and sweet.”

  “I never had the pleasure of meeting them, but I’ve seen family portraits, and they were darlings. One perfect, happy family.”

  “Until they weren’t,” Emma added, her voice tight.

  “You’ll need to find that out for yourself, dear.” Astrid patted her on the knee and then spotted the butler in the doorway.

  “Mum, dinner has been set up in the sun parlor. We’ll begin serving in fifteen minutes, if it suits you.” At Astrid’s nod of approval, the butler gave a small, formal bow, turned and left.

  “Perfect,” Astrid said. “This gives us time to tour the palace.”

  Emma followed the older woman through the doors and into the hall.

  “Down here, I want you to see the ballroom. It’s not used as much anymore, but it’s still stunning.”

  They walked down a series of corridors until one of them opened into a large room with high ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and extensive paintings in thick gold frames spaced evenly along the walls. The floor gleamed as if it had been polished only hours ago.

  Emma remembered the room from her first visit to the past.

  “Anna-Maria and Fitz gave a lot of parties in this room,” she said, almost matter-of-factly.

  Astrid looked surprised, “They did, child, how did you…? Oh, of course. Do you remember being in this room?”

  Emma nodded, “I do, with Fitz, dancing, and then leaving the party to say good-night to the children.” Emma walked inside and touched the wall. It was extraordinary to be here. For a moment she could almost see the night again, and feel her dress, and Fitz’s warm, steady hand on the small of her back.

  “Ladies, are you coming?” It was Peter, but even so, Emma was so startled she nearly jumped a foot in the air.

  “I’m sorry, Em, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t. I was, uh, taken aback by this room. Is it used much anymore?”

  Peter shrugged, “Usually for royal events, state dinners, wedding receptions, that kind of thing.”

  Wedding receptions. Of course. She was standing in the room that would someday host Peter and Alex’s wedding. Splendid.

  Emma looked at him and saw the reality of where they were standing sink in.

  “Em, I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No, it’s fine.” She bit her lip and hurried out of the room.

  chapter 19

  Dinner was a delightful, if slightly over-elaborate meal, or at least more elaborate than Emma was used to.

  “I’m glad I stayed,” Emma sighed, sipping her wine. “This was lovely and relaxing, and the palace doesn’t seem so spooky now.” She winked at Astrid.

  Peter started to reach for her hand and then pulled back.

  “I should go, Peter.” Astrid scooted her chair back and Peter stood up as well, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

  “Thank you for everything,” he said softly.

  “My boy,” she gave him a gentle, motherly smile, “Everything is going to be all right. Look out for Emma tonight, would you?”

  “I will,” Peter said and then said to Emma, “Let’s show you to your room. I’ll walk you.”

  While Peter walked her to the wing with Fitz and Anna-Maria’s bedroom, a silence fell between them, and the air surrounding them felt electrically charged.

  “I used to sleep right there,” Peter said, pointing to the children’s room. “My parents thought it was odd. I insisted on using it, when mine was so much bigger, but I couldn’t help it. There was something about the room that called to me, haunted me, and I was depressed for days when my mother forced me back into my regular room.”

  Emma walked over to peek in, but the room was dark, though the door was ajar. She pushed it open farther and walked in. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. The two tiny beds
, one on either side of the room, and a dresser that used to be full of stuffed toys. Emma walked over to the little beds, finding an N carved into the foot of one bed, and an F carved into the foot of the other.

  “Noah and Fleur,” she said to herself.

  Peter came up behind her. “Yes, how did you know?”

  Emma shrugged. Telling him would mean revealing so much more than she was ready to share after such an exhausting day.

  “History buff,” she offered lamely.

  “Is it why you want to sleep in Fitz and Anna-Maria’s room?”

  “They were very much in love, weren’t they?”

  Peter nodded and walked over to her, reaching down to take her hand. “They were very much in love, and Fitz never cared who knew it, even though back then, and being royalty, you know, public displays of affection were frowned on. In diaries we’ve found written by their friends, they frequently commented that the two were never far from each other’s side. When they stood next to each other, Fitz was always touching her affectionately or holding her hand.”

  Emma pulled back her own hand as soon as past life memories came rushing back, needing to create some distance between them before she completely lost it.

  She stepped back to try and break the spell and then said, “I…um…should…get some sleep.”

  Peter’s expression stiffened. “Of course, you must be exhausted. I’ve told the staff not to bother you, and no one but me and one of the maids who prepared your room knows where you are staying. So you don’t have to worry about anyone…unwelcome…showing up in the middle of the night.”

  “You mean like Alexandra, coming to poison me?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. Worry? “I’m not kidding, Emma. I’ve told her in no uncertain terms to leave you alone, forever and for good. She’ll never bother you again, or she’ll have to deal with me.”

  A small silence fell between them while they stood in the grand bedroom, which was so filled with memories they almost screamed out at her, begging to be retold.

  “Will you be happy?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “It’s truly none of my business.”

  “Don’t be sorry, please. It’s a reasonable question, and the answer is no,” he began, not quite looking her in the eye. “But, God willing, I will do good work, and that will make me happy.”

  “I’m so sorry, Peter. I genuinely am.”

  He walked over to her then and stroked her hair, locking his eyes with hers, until she felt warm, and her heart wobbled dangerously.

  For a moment she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he leaned down to press his lips to her cheek in a tender act of longing and farewell.

  “I will never stop loving you, Emmeline,” he said softly in her ear, and then, without another word, he left, dragging her heart behind him.

  chapter 20

  After Peter left, Emma dragged herself into Fitz and Anna-Maria’s room and flopped back on the bed.

  It had been a long, excruciating day, and here she was, thousands of miles from home. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be in her grandfather’s bookstore right now, doing something simple like organizing books on a shelf and listening the distant, tinny sound of Marcel’s Belgian radio station.

  When her eyes burned with unshed tears, she shook her head to dislodge the almost overwhelming sorrow choking her. Enough with the crying, she thought. If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn into one of those women who couldn’t manage her emotions.

  All through her childhood, after her mother left, and then her father left, she’d never once cried a single tear, even though her grandmother kindly encouraged her to “let it out.”

  Now a tsunami of emotion engulfed her, and she couldn’t quite figure how to keep her head above water. Or, better yet, get out of the water entirely.

  But now she was here, in this place, and in this room. Somewhere in the palace was the woman Peter would marry. Tomorrow she would go home and start to rebuild her life with a new job. She’d stay so busy she wouldn’t have a single moment to think about Peter or Alexandra.

  She snorted to herself. Who am I kidding?

  Apparently, in addition to turning into an emotional wreck, she’d also become delusional.

  Twenty minutes later, Emma was in bed, listening to the voices and memories of the past lives she’d visited while they flooded her mind. She closed her eyes and let herself slip back in time.

  . . .

  Emma felt the dress again. That was how she knew she was back, because of the heavy fabric, and the stiff, restricting corset. But this time she recognized that she was less herself and much more Anna-Maria. It was hard to describe, but it was a feeling of sitting quietly and unobtrusively inside someone else’s mind, rather than controlling it.

  They were on their way back to the palace after the picnic. It had been a wonderful afternoon, and the children ran ahead of them, running, playing, and laughing. Emma looked around at the familiar palace grounds. Fitz held her hand and smiled down at her.

  “I love spending time together like this.” He stopped and kissed her then. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world.”

  Emma felt her heart flutter. His touch was all it took to reduce her to the thrilled, starry-eyed schoolgirl she was when she met him.

  “I remember the first time I saw you,” she said, and Emma did, in fact, have that memory. She could see it as plain as day. Anna-Maria was young, maybe sixteen or so, and there was Fitz, a tall and beyond handsome prince. He took her breath away.

  “You ignored me for weeks,” Fitz teased. “I was air to you.”

  “I had to. I didn’t want to become one of the hundreds of women who did nothing but swoon every time you walked past.”

  “There was no swooning, love.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, Lord in Heaven, did you truly not see all those girls pining for you? They wanted so desperately for Prince Fitzgerald to notice them, they did everything but strip down to their corsets.”

  Fitz pulled her close, “I could have been in a roomful of half-dressed women, and I would only have noticed you.”

  Emma giggled. “I think you might have given an entire roomful a second look.”

  “Never,” Fitz said, a more serious tone to his voice. “You need to believe that, for however long we are both on this earth, there is only one love for me. Only one. No matter what. Promise me you won’t forget.”

  Emma frowned and felt a tightening inside her. “Fitz, is everything all right?”

  He kissed her quickly and threw her a broad, dashing grin, “Of course it is, my love. I merely want you to know I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “Mamma, Papa, let’s go inside!” It was little Noah who pulled them from their trance, but the tyke was used to seeing his parents caught up in each other.

  That evening they followed the usual routine of putting their children to bed. Fitz read them a bedtime story, which he didn’t get to finish before they both fell into a slumber.

  Emma stood in the doorway, watching him. She loved watching him with their children. He bent down and kissed each of them goodnight and then walked over to her and took her hand.

  “My Queen, shall we retire to our room?” There was a gleam in his eye, and he touched her lips with his own.

  “Your wish is my command,” she teased, just as Fitz swooped her up, heavy skirts and all, and carried her down the hall.

  “Do you remember when we were first married, I carried you exactly like this?” He walked them to their room and set her down inside.

  “I do,” Emma reached up and kissed him and began unbuttoning his shirt. He touched his lips to her earlobes, which sent a shot of heat right through her. He kissed her then until her entire body throbbed. She desired him so madly that she co
uld not form an actual, coherent thought.

  His hands fluttered over her, unbuttoning her dress. It dropped to the ground and he reached down and unhooked her corset. Her breasts popped out and his lips were on them in an instant, hot and wet.

  “Oh, Fitz,” she breathed, gripping his hair. He picked her up again and set her on the bed.

  He removed his own clothes, and she could see he was hard and ready as he sprang free from his trousers. He bent down and his mouth was on her, his lips skimming her stomach all the way down.

  When his tongue flicked inside her, she moaned his name and gave in to the intense pleasure, her eyes tight shut as she surrendered to the sensations overtaking her body. Heat pulsed through her, and Emma could feel the mind-numbing pleasure sink into her bones.

  She ran her fingers through his hair while he tasted her, and then he kissed her thighs, easing them apart with his hands. He drove himself into her then and let out a small moan and shuddered when he was fully inside her.

  When they kissed, she could taste herself on his tongue, and it was so erotic she thought she might be overtaken by a new wave of ecstasy. He kept up the rhythm and the delicious friction as he slid in and beckoned until a new climax started in her toes and moved up her body like a warm wave, sending a shock wave through her system. She clung to Fitz as she came, digging her fingers into his back.

  “How I love you,” he whispered while he drove himself deeper into her, thickening and hardening further until a storm of sensation released his seed inside her.

  They lay there for a moment, still connected, while he stroked her hair. His skin felt damp and warm, and she loved feeling him this way—after they made love, when his body was spent and he was still inside her.

  “I adore you, Fitz,” she whispered. “And for the record, I loved you, too. From the moment I saw you the first day, I loved you.”

  chapter 21

  A crash woke them up, and then a loud thud, and footsteps. A lot of footsteps.