by Renna Peak
“You’ll do no such thing.” Andrew’s voice rings over my shoulder. “I’ve already told you that Victoria will be far too busy—”
“After dinner, Brother?” He shakes his head. “And what exactly would she be busy with after dinner tomorrow night?”
I step between the two men, more so that I can see Andrew’s expression than anything.
Andrew is glaring at his brother. “I would have no way of knowing what she would be busy doing. Only that she will.”
William shakes his head, the forced smile falling completely away. “You have no right, Andrew. I believe Victoria is the only person who can decline my request for her company, and she has already agreed.”
“She…has.” His voice is flat, and what he’s said definitely isn’t a question. “I see.”
Andrew’s date joins him again, smiling. She wraps her hands possessively around his forearm. “Forgive me, what have I missed?”
“Nothing.” I force a smile. “You haven’t missed anything.” I glance at William, nodding, before I turn my gaze to Andrew. “Your father wanted me to see your reaction tonight, and I believe I’ve seen enough.” I turn back to William. “I’ll be happy to join you tomorrow after dinner.” My gaze darts back to Andrew’s. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some more notes to make tonight.” I force another smile and give Clarissa a shallow nod. “Lovely meeting you.”
She gives me nothing but a small sneer. “Likewise.”
“I’ll escort you.” Andrew and William speak at the same time. Both men glare at each other for a moment before they say in unison, “I’ll escort her.”
Clarissa’s brow furrows. “Andrew?”
Her words seem to break the trance he’s in and he looks down at her. “I… I’m sorry. Of course William should escort her.” He turns and gives me a small forced smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, Victoria.”
“I…I think I can escort myself tonight. Thank you both, though,” I say, trying to cover my discomfort. “I suppose I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
I edge out of the group of people and make my way for the door, not turning to see if anyone is following me until I’m well into the corridor. But there’s no one there.
My shoulders drop in relief. I don’t need the complication of either man tonight.
Andrew
I am going to have words with William. What is he thinking, asking Victoria to spar with him? And what is Victoria doing agreeing to it? This is about more than fencing, that much is clear.
By the time I get back to my suite that night, my head is throbbing. Try as I might, I can’t seem to think about anything but Victoria. Lady Clarissa is as lovely as I remembered, but the moment Victoria walked into the room, I had eyes for no one but her. And after she left so abruptly, my thoughts could focus on nothing else. I watched William all night, half expecting him to sneak out after her, and more than once Lady Clarissa had to tug at my arm to get my attention.
I thought perhaps my thoughts would settle once we all retired for the night, but I feel even more restless now. I ache to punch something, to physically expel my frustrations somehow, but I restrain myself. One thing is certain—I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Not with so much on my mind. Not without Victoria in my arms.
I force myself to release a long breath as I undress. You were the one who put yourself in this situation, I remind myself. You were the one who proposed this ridiculous pageant even when Victoria and your own mother objected. And for the good of Montovia, I know I must go through with it.
I’m lucky the other story hasn’t surfaced yet—the one that made me hire Victoria in the first place. But it’s only a matter of time, I know, and that makes this public search for my bride all the more important.
After tonight, though, I’m even more certain the next couple of months are going to be a chore. I trust my father’s judgment when it comes to making the best political match—but I’m exhausted after only one night with Lady Clarissa. The thought of spending the rest of my life with her makes me feel ill.
Certainly, she is refined. Her reputation is spotless with the press, and the public seems to adore her. She’s beautiful and well mannered and knows how to conduct herself in both social and political situations.
But, as I remembered, she is not content unless she is the center of attention. Any time my focus wavered over the course of the night, even for the briefest of moments, she fought desperately to draw it back—first with flirtation, then soft touches, and finally with stories meant either to shock me or win my sympathy. By the end of the night she would have had me believe that half the nobles of our acquaintance were either in love with her or actively trying to sabotage her happiness, the way she tells it.
But it was her comments about Victoria that really got under my skin. Yes, Victoria is a commoner, but Lady Clarissa acted as if we’d let some sort of barnyard animal into our halls. Victoria might not be used to these sorts of social situations, but she’s sharp and talented and capable. She might not be accustomed to our manners and customs, but Lady Clarissa would have had me believe that one minor flub made Victoria unsuitable to be in our company. Ridiculous.
I run my hand through my hair. I suppose I should be grateful that Lady Clarissa is playing along with the public search for my bride. She seemed almost excited by the idea, probably realizing it will raise her public profile significantly, whether I ultimately choose her or not. Or, perhaps, she is simply confident that I will choose her.
I close my eyes and try to imagine a life with Lady Clarissa by my side. We have so little in common aside from our blood—whatever would we talk about for the rest of our lives? How everyone is jealous of her? How commoners are no better than the dirt beneath our shoes? My head throbs just thinking about it.
And that’s not even considering our main responsibility—producing an heir. I try to imagine taking Lady Clarissa to bed. Pulling all of those jewels and lace off of her. Spending the night with her in my arms.
But the entire thing just makes my stomach twist. There’s only one woman I want in my arms—and I definitely can’t marry her.
You’ve ruined me, Victoria, I think. I can’t even imagine spending the night with anyone else, not with the thought of Victoria coursing through me. Lady Clarissa’s arms won’t help me sleep. Lady Clarissa won’t satisfy the longing I have deep in my bones.
After the way Victoria stormed out of the room tonight, I can’t imagine she’ll be very pleased to see me. But I have to try. I have to see her, if only for a moment.
I pull my clothes back on and stride out the door, making my way to Victoria’s room.
I rap lightly on the door. I must be careful—we keep the guests in the same wing, so I know Lady Clarissa’s chambers can’t be far.
There’s no response. After a couple of minute pass, I knock again, a little louder this time.
The door remains shut. I hear no sounds of movement from the other side.
I’m lifting my hand to try a third time when the door to the room on my left opens.
Lady Clarissa peers out into the corridor. She’s wearing only a nightdress, and her hair spills in loose waves down around her shoulders. Her eyes widen when she sees me.
“Andrew,” she says. “What brings you to this part of the palace?” Her eyes dart to Victoria’s door. “Whose room is that?”
Shit. There is no innocent answer, nothing I could say to avoid an extremely awkward situation—and potentially unpleasant consequences for Victoria.
Unless I lie.
“I was looking for you,” I say quickly. “I must have mixed up the rooms.” I walk over to Clarissa, silently praying that Victoria doesn’t finally decide to answer the door.
The surprise in Clarissa’s eyes has shifted to something else—something suggestive. I must tread carefully if I want to keep this from getting any more awkward.
“You were looking for me?” she says with a tilt of her head. “At this hour?”
“I m
erely wanted to make sure you were settled,” I say. “And that you have everything you need for your stay here.”
“How gentlemanly,” she says, reaching out and running a hand down my chest. I stiffen at her touch, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “I just had them bring me some chamomile tea. Would you care for a cup?”
The look in her eyes tells me that tea is the last thing on her mind—and the way her fingers have paused over one of the buttons on my shirt doesn’t help. I take a small step away from her, and then bow my head slightly.
“I hate to refuse a lady’s company,” I say, “but I’m afraid I have some business still to attend to tonight. As I said, I merely wished to see that you were settled.”
Her thin, perfectly arched eyebrow rises. “Business? At this hour? Surely it can wait.”
Apparently subtlety isn’t working. I try another tack.
“I’m afraid I cannot take you up on your generous offer,” I say. “It wouldn’t do for someone to see me entering or leaving your room at this time of night. I consider it my duty to ensure that no one—and especially anyone I intend to publicly court—is subjected to any untoward rumors while under this roof.”
She gives a small shake of her head, but she’s still smiling. “You worry too much, Your Highness. There’s no one here to see.”
“Not at this moment. Which is why I must make my farewells now. Goodnight, Lady Clarissa.”
She starts to object, then seems to think better of it. If I had to guess, I would say the Lady Clarissa is the sort of person who refuses to beg anyone for anything—especially a man.
“Goodnight, Your Highness,” she says, her eyes gleaming. “Perhaps during my stay here, I might be able to rid you of some of your more inconvenient manners.”
Oh, I have no doubt she intends to do just that. I give another dip of my head and retreat down the corridor as quickly as I can.
That was too close, I tell myself. What cursed being put Clarissa’s room right next to Victoria’s? Thank God Victoria never answered her door.
Of course, knowing Victoria refused to even speak to me doesn’t make me feel any better. Only a few short hours ago, we nearly had sex, for God’s sake. I know I could have behaved better at the reception for Lady Clarissa, but seeing William touching her made me lose all sense of myself. William and Sophia both saw us last night—they know Victoria is mine. Mine, and no one else’s. If any of my brothers lay a hand on her, I won’t be held responsible for what I do.
I don’t return to my room. I know I won’t be able to sleep without Victoria. Instead, I find myself heading outside to the gymnasium again.
You’re just torturing yourself, I think. What do you expect to find there? I’m already planning on doing everything in my power to ensure Victoria and William don’t have their match tomorrow night. In the meantime, though, I need to prove something to myself.
I never particularly excelled at fencing—or athletics in general. My forte was always academics—I thrived in the areas of business, math, and history. But if Victoria is going to fence anyone, I want it to be me. And that means I need to practice.
The gymnasium lights are on again. I almost turn back when I notice, but I refuse to be a coward. I have every right to use the gymnasium, and I won’t back down from a challenge. That’s exactly what William is doing when it comes to Victoria—laying down a challenge for me.
But when I step inside the gymnasium, it’s not William I see practicing. It’s Victoria.
She doesn’t notice me at first. She has an épée in her hand, and she appears to be working through some exercises.
I stand silently at the door, watching her. I didn’t realize before how graceful she is—she moves with both fluidity and complete control. She’s wearing a thin, strappy shirt and a pair of leggings, and the clothes cling tightly to her body, showing every muscle in her arms and legs as she does her practice lunges. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, but some of it has come loose, hanging down against her neck.
She’s beautiful. Simply beautiful.
I don’t move. Don’t make a sound. But suddenly she seems to realize I’m there. She stiffens then turns, looking directly at me.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks.
“The same as you—I thought I might practice.” I stride across the floor toward her.
“I’m fencing your brother tomorrow,” she says, as if she knows I mean to object to it again.
“Then you can fence me tonight.”
I go over to the wall and grab some practice gear. I pull down a set for her as well. She had no reason to wear a chest guard or face mask while working through her exercises alone.
“I’m actually just finishing up,” she says, putting her épée back in the rack on the wall. “But you’re welcome to keep practicing by yourself.”
I frown. “Victoria—”
“We have nothing to discuss,” she says.
“We have everything to discuss.” I straighten my shoulders. “I want to apologize—”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just a commoner, after all.”
“You are not just a commoner. You… Victoria, it is my responsibility to court Lady Clarissa. And I must—”
“I get it, don’t worry.”
I take a deep breath. “If you aren’t comfortable covering this story, or if you feel unsuited—”
“I am perfectly comfortable. And perfectly suited to the job. You told me yourself you didn’t want anyone else. For the job, I mean.”
“I don’t,” I say, then add, “For the job.”
A long, uncomfortable silence stretches between us. She isn’t looking at me, but nor does she walk away.
Finally, I say, “I went by your room. When you didn’t answer, I thought you were ignoring me.”
“If I’d been there, I would have.”
“And would you have been able to sleep?”
Her gaze drops down to her feet. “We’re going to have to figure out how to get through this without each other. We can’t go on sleeping together forever.” She looks up at me again. “They put Lady Clarissa in the room next to mine, you know.”
“I know. Most unfortunate.”
“It’s just another reason this has to stop. You need a wife. And this… God forbid whatever this is we’re doing jeopardizes that.”
“You could come sleep in my room.”
“And risk your father walking in on us again? No thank you.”
“Somewhere else then. Somewhere just for the two of us.”
Something fills her eyes—something wary, and sad, and uncertain. “What are you doing, Andrew? We can’t just—”
“There’s a small cottage near the back of the gardens,” I say. “It was originally where the head gardener lived, but our current gardener’s wife just had their third child, so we arranged for them to have a large flat in the city instead. No one uses the cottage.”
Victoria is shaking her head. “We can’t—”
“No one will notice we’re there. It will be our secret, a place we can sneak away to when we need each other’s company. A place where we don’t have to worry about the rest of the world.”
Her gaze drops again. “I don’t know, Andrew.”
I take her hand in mine. Bring her fingers to my lips. “One night. If you hate it, then we never have to go back.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“We can’t keep pretending like we can fight it either.”
Her shoulders relax slightly, as if she’s decided something. “Fine. One night. But only to sleep. We can’t… What happened earlier today can’t happen again.”
God, I would give anything for it to happen again, but I force myself to nod. “If that’s what you wish.”
“It is.”
Her hand is still in mine. “Then I’ll take you there now. But if you ever change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
“Well, if you do,
then all you have to do is tell me so.”
Victoria
Andrew holds my hand and leads me out of the gym and onto a dimly lit path through the gardens. We’re silent as we walk—I might have refused to do anything more than sleep—and only sleep—with him, but something about the way he’s touching me tells me he didn’t believe my refusal any more than I did.
What the fuck am I doing?
As much as I might want to, I can’t let what happened earlier tonight happen again. It’s going to hurt too much when it ends. And it will end, whether it’s because of Lady Clarissa or one of the other women Andrew will be courting. It’s better to draw a line in the sand and make it clear how far I’m willing to let our relationship go—which for me, has to end at sleep.
And I do need him for that, at least for now.
We walk up to the cottage on the far end of the palace grounds. It’s charming—almost a small house with vines covering the roof and flowers planted in the boxes under the windows.
I turn to Andrew. “You’re sure there’s no one living here?”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m quite certain.” We walk up to the door and he turns the handle—it swings open easily.
Nothing like the cabin we were at in the middle of nowhere. That all seems so long ago now—being with Andrew in the tiny cabin where we shared beets and peas from aluminum cans. Where he’d first held me out of more than a sense of duty.
Andrew looks down at me, tilting his head with a small smile. “You’re not having second thoughts?”
I absolutely am having second thoughts. But I shake my head. It’s not worth another sleepless night without him. And maybe doing more than sleeping isn’t such a bad idea after all. Perhaps if we get whatever this is out of our systems, we’ll both be able to function again. Maybe not normally—something tells me I’m never going to feel normal again—but perhaps we’ll at least be able to sleep without the other.
Or he’ll be able to sleep with Clarissa…
I try to ignore the burning I feel in my chest at thinking her name.