A wicked glint appeared in her eye. “How would you like me to greet you?”
“Rodgers is part of the furniture,” he said softly, his tone musing.
She frowned. “Huh?”
His segue had confused her, so he clarified. “You can pretend he’s not there.”
“I can? Won’t he gossip? Look, I’ve seen Downton Abbey, ya know. The staff talks.”
He laughed at the notion of Rodgers unbending enough to discuss anything improper about the Duke’s taste for date and walnut cake—never mind his love life. “Perhaps, but never Rodgers.”
“Why not?” she asked, her distrust evident. That alone saddened him. A few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have even cared, but now that she was in the public spotlight, everything had changed.
Only a week ago, she and Edward had declared their impending nuptials to the public. Seven days in which her life had forever changed, and that were already starting to tarnish her with the insidious ways their lifestyle had a tendency of doing.
They were rich, powerful, and more fortunate than most could comprehend. Yet things like privacy, security, and loyalty were more fiercely guarded than the crown jewels.
Well, on a personal level, anyway.
Her privacy had already been invaded by the press—who were actually kept on a leash by the Veronian constitution and tight privacy laws. If she journeyed out of the country, she’d really learn what a breach of privacy felt like—something he certainly didn’t want for her.
Her security was at risk by the sheer fact she was going to marry Edward. Thus, guards were on her wherever she went.
And loyalty? She hadn’t been around long enough to inspire it in the staff. He knew that only George, Edward, and Xavier were the ones she felt she could trust. Although the King and Queen would never do anything to hurt her, they would always be more on Edward’s side than Perry’s, thanks to parents’ needs to shield their child.
She was adrift, in truth.
Lost to a strange new world, within an even stranger relationship.
At that moment, he felt incredibly lonely for her, and he determined that he would always, no matter the circumstance, be her port of call when times grew tough.
As the legendary Enrique Iglesias had said once upon a time, “I can be your hero, baby.” Inwardly, he laughed, even though it was true.
He’d be her hero. And more.
“So, basically,” she grumbled, breaking into his little dive into post-Millennial pop music, “you’re saying I can just jump on you in front of Rodgers and he won’t bat an eyelid?”
“He’s well-paid to maintain my secrets,” was all he said, but the truth was, it was a disservice to Rodgers.
The words were ones that Perry, American and capitalistic to the marrow, would understand.
But Rodgers had been with the family from birth. Well, almost. His parents had served on the staff here, and his grandfather had also been a butler to Xavier’s great-grandfather.
His line ran parallel to Xavier’s, in a way.
It was beyond his own rather wild imagination to even consider Rodgers selling out the family—it would be like the butler betraying his blood relatives.
Because she was American, the notion of a high salary had her nodding her head in understanding. However, it didn’t stop her from asking, “What if the press offers to pay more than you do?”
He snorted. “Rodgers is well-rewarded for his work here. But more than that, his very family is a part of the bones of this estate. We’re all intrinsic to it, we all have our part.”
She cut him a look. “Does that part include turning a blind eye to the future Queen’s shenanigans with the Lord of the Manor?”
His grin was like quicksilver. “Most definitely.”
She laughed at the satisfaction in his voice, then stepped away from the workspace to approach him from the front.
He sighed when she curved her arms around his neck, and he settled his hands on her slim waist. On tiptoe, she reached up to press her mouth to his, and the taste of her was like a mug of hot chocolate after a night on the piste.
There was something about Perry that made a man think of long nights in front of an open hearth. Not just her ripe form, which was made for exploring in front of the licking flames, but because it would be a joy to sit and just be with her.
He hadn’t had that with her yet.
All of this had happened so quickly that just chilling out with one another hadn’t exactly taken precedence.
George’s fault, of course.
He’d shifted the timeline leagues ahead when he’d told Perry his desires for his future with her. The idiot always had gone more with “less haste, more speed” than was good for him.
She, too, sighed into his kiss, as he speared her mouth with his tongue, gently thrusting against hers. He was content to savor, content just to taste, and it seemed she was too.
The generous swells of her body sank into him, merging against his hardness until they were one entity as they stood there, in his greenhouse, the scents of his favorite place in the universe filling his nostrils.
A voice cleared, and Perry tensed. He opened his eyes as he gritted out, “Rodgers?”
“Apologies, Sire. Their Highnesses are here.”
He blinked. “Which Highnesses?”
“Princes Edward and George, your Grace.” Rodgers looked anywhere other than at the woman in the Duke’s arms. “They are in the Tulip Room, Sire. I thought it wise to avoid a scene.”
A shocked and very anxious giggle burst from Perry and she burrowed her face into Xavier’s throat.
“Oh my God. Let the earth open up and swallow me whole.”
Xavier, trying not to laugh, arranged his expression into somber lines. “Rodgers, you’re aware of who Perry is?”
“Of course, Sire,” came the grave retort. “I’d have had to be a fool to miss last week’s announcement.”
“Then, you’ll need to be kept in the loop.” Xavier caught and held his butler’s eyes. “Perry isn’t cheating on Edward.”
Confusion laced the older man’s stoic features, and Xavier finally had the answer to an age-old unspoken question he’d had floating about his head.
Exactly what could break the man’s stoicism?
Apparently, talk of the future Queen, while in the Duke’s arms, being faithful to the Crown Prince…
Xavier couldn’t blame the man for being confused.
Rodgers cleared his throat—this time not to seek attention or to break into a private moment, but out of genuine perplexity.
“I think I understand, Sire,” he said after a moment, though it was quite clear he didn’t. “I shall keep the staff from intruding when Her Grace is at the estate.”
“While I would appreciate that, Rodgers, this is my home. I will not limit my activities with the woman I love here. And,” it was Xavier’s turn to clear his throat, “you should probably be more accustomed to the Princes being here too.”
Rodgers’s eyes widened. “Being here? Overnight?”
Xavier nodded, and had to hide a smile when Perry groaned and burrowed her face into his linen shirt.
“Of course, you are the only member of staff who will understand the delicacy of our situation.”
Pride and bewilderment fought a battle on Rodgers’ face. His mouth popped open then sank closed. “I am, Sire?”
“Yes. Both here and at the castle. I trust you with my life, man. Therefore, I can trust you with Perry’s too.”
For a second, the butler looked more floored than he had a moment before. Which was really saying something. “I think I understand, Your Grace.” In his black tails and white gloves, Rodgers was a walking, talking embodiment of an establishment that no longer existed.
He had the morals of a man from that same era, but he was his Duke’s attendant through and through and would never betray him. He nodded and made to depart, but before he could, Xavier murmured, “Get used to seeing Perry around here, Rodgers. Sh
e’s the mistress of the estate now. In action and deed, if not name.”
Rodgers’ shoulders stiffened, but that was nothing to Perry’s reaction.
“Excuse me?” she demanded, when the butler’s steps had faded out. “The mistress of this estate?”
Xavier grinned at the fire flashing in her eyes as she peered up at him, the tips of her fingers digging into his chest as she pushed herself away and brought distance between them.
He didn’t let her move far. Keeping his hands looped about her hips, he murmured, “You are one of the family. Rodgers understands family like nothing else. If I say you’re the mistress of this estate, he knows to protect you and shield you and serve you as he would me.”
For a second, she stared at him blankly, her crisp aquamarine eyes slightly unfocused until she clenched the lids and shook her head.
“This is…”
“Don’t say it,” he warned. “I’m sick of you declaring this situation crazy.”
“And what else is it?” she snapped. “This situation… you guys, your status? I mean, it just makes no sense to be tempting the fates the way we are. We’re going to get caught and we’re going to create a huge scandal.”
She looked so pained he had to kiss the tip of her nose. Not to shut her up or to undermine her concerns, just to connect.
He felt her stress, wished there was something he could do about it, but that just wasn’t to be.
“We’re not going to get caught. We’re not going to cause a scandal.” With the knowledge that his uncle had somehow managed to have enough affairs to upset his tanta, and all without it becoming public knowledge, Xavier knew well and good that the royal family could have secret lives with no one being any the wiser.
It was all down to the staff one trusted with those secrets, and there was no one more trustworthy than Rodgers.
“I didn’t realize they were coming to visit today as well,” she told him, and he realized her tone was apologetic.
He frowned. “You don’t have to sound guilty, Perry.”
“Don’t I?” She bit her lip. “I wanted to spend some time with you.”
He smiled, touched by her words. “I’m glad,” he told her, his tone grave, as serious as the situation required.
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I don’t want you to feel like a fifth wheel because you’re not at the castle.”
He snorted. “Trust me. I don’t feel that way,” Xavier told her, amused at the idea. “If anything, I have the most freedom at home. The privacy we’ll find here is beyond compare.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I must admit that when the driver brings me here, as soon as the gates close behind us, I feel safer.”
While he was pleased by the notion, he didn’t want her to feel like she was in danger.
Though she technically was, he didn’t want her to live her life in constant fear.
There was already one DeSauvier who led his life like that, and being married to him was more than enough for any woman to stand.
“We’ll keep you safe,” he informed her gently, tilting his head so he could nuzzle his chin into her palm.
She smiled at the affectionate gesture. “You don’t have to say that. If the guards couldn’t keep George and Edward safe when they were boys…”
Her voice broke off, but not before he started shaking his head. “Different times, Perry. Surely, you must see that. The technological advancements are more than even I can even understand, and I’m more at ease with the need for security than you are.” He pointed to three separate places in the foliage behind her. She twisted around to see where he was gesturing. “Cameras. They’re always watching.” When he sensed her tense, felt the way in which her body was cuddled into his, he teased, “If the guards ever sold their story, they’d be thrown into Veronian jails for treason.”
“Holy shit,” she breathed. “That’s hardcore.”
“Which part of the Veronian way of life makes you think we don’t take our security and our privacy seriously?”
She gnawed at the inside of her cheek. “I guess it makes sense.”
Xavier nodded, his brow arched knowingly. “You Americans are so obsessed with the freedom of the press that you forget how invasive that freedom is. Our press has the right to print whatever it wants about genuine news pieces. But about whoever it wants? No. That’s when the privacy laws bang into place.
“But with the guards, it’s different. They sign official documentation that binds them to us forever. Even if they retire, resign, or are fired, they can never reveal anything they might learn while in our employ. To do so would invoke the strictest laws of the land. Worse still, it would be an act of defiance against the royal family.”
“Hence the treason.” She gulped. “Is Veronia a capital punishment country?”
Xavier grimaced. “Sadly, yes.”
“They’d be executed?”
“Depends on the secret they leaked,” he said after a while. “And, let’s face it, one of this magnitude could rock the royal family… there’s no way any guard would survive the telling of such a secret.”
“I’m not sure if you’ve made me feel better or worse,” she complained.
“He has a habit of that,” George said, his voice breaking into the hushed environs of the glasshouse.
Xavier turned to look at his cousin. “What are you doing here, pipsqueak?”
George scowled at the old nickname, but Perry laughed, turning her head to stare at her best friend and lover.
Of them all, Perry and George had known one another the longest. They’d met at university in the US, and had been friends ever since. The drunken recounting of a secret, a glimpse at a Kindle, and George had guessed that Perry’s predilections ran parallel to his and Edward’s when it came to sharing and being shared. Luckily for them all, he’d been correct.
Xavier had only been thrown into the mix thanks to a simple twist of fate.
When Perry had come here, on her first night, there had been a banquet. She and Xavier had met there and had consummated the attraction that had flared to life between them.
Upon seeing Perry—the woman George had loved secretly for years—in Xavier’s arms, the truth had come tumbling out.
And now, close to two months later, they were all caught up in a net that had appeared out of nowhere, yet was entirely of their own making.
“I wanted to start eating but Edward said it was poor manners.”
Xavier snickered. “Never stopped you before.”
“No, but Edward isn’t usually around preaching about decorum.”
“Since when has he cared about that?”
“Since he was yelled at this morning by one of the Guardians of the Keys.”
Perry’s mouth rounded. “What’s a Guardian of the Keys?”
“You know what a chatelaine is?” Xavier asked her quietly, surprised she hadn’t come across a Guardian of the Keys in one of her many lessons.
“The woman of the keep,” Perry said, “had all the keys on a chain about her waist. She was the lord of the manor’s lady, and their home was her domain.”
Xavier nodded, impressed at her knowledge of old lore. “Well, the castle is too large and Marianne’s duties too numerous for her to be the chatelaine. The Guardians of the Keys are positions held by the highest-ranking nobles of the land.”
“Like the Queen’s ladies maids?”
“Exactly. Guardian of the Keys is a more Veronian way of phrasing it.” To George, he asked, “What did Edward do?”
“He was caught feeling up Perry in one of the hallways.”
Perry stiffened. “Oops.”
Xavier laughed. “If you’re allowed to be felt up by anyone in a hallway, it’s Edward.”
“Apparently not, if it shows a lack of decorum,” Perry said, but she didn’t sound peeved, just glum.
“It’s their job to preach about a lack of decorum,” George told her ruefully. “But that doesn’t mean it’s our job to lead our li
ves by it. We’re in charge, after all.”
Xavier laughed again. “If you think that, it’s no wonder Murielle Harlington loathes you. Knowing you, you’ve probably shoved that in her face.”
George sniffed. “Irrepressible busybody. We’re already constrained in public. The castle is our home first, then our seat. I see no need to be totally restricted.”
“Edward, it would seem, doesn’t agree,” Xavier pointed out, amused at George’s rebellious streak.
He watched as his cousin folded his arms across his chest. Obstinacy radiated from his pores, and he wondered if it was because he was the baby of the family
“Actually, Edward does agree with me.”
“Why’s he bitching at you about eating the sandwiches without my approval then?”
“Because he’s being a bore.”
Xavier frowned, but Perry beat him to it. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” she asked, and pulled away from Xavier’s hold on her hips.
Though he wanted to haul her back, he didn’t have to. She didn’t move far, instead just turned around and leaned back against him so she could look at George without craning her neck, while maintaining a close contact with Xavier.
George noticed the move, and the smile on his face was as close to beatific as could be.
The sight pleased him.
Xavier didn’t particularly understand George’s kink. Nor did he understand Edward’s, or even his own. He just knew he needed Perry in his life.
She was the first gulp of fresh air he’d had in too long. After years of being hunted by the women at court, a misfortune his cousins shared with him, Perry’s very nature was appealing.
She was smart. A creature who worked on instincts—not that she realized it. She was open and warm, affectionate, and had a desire to help for the sake of helping rather than for what good it would do her or her family name.
There was a selflessness that called to Xavier, and he knew it called to his cousins too.
They were powerful men. Could have anything they wanted whenever they wanted; nothing was outside of their means. And yet, the one thing none of them had was a steady relationship.
He and George were in their thirties, Edward was forty-one. All of them were old enough to have settled down by now, and yet they never had.
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