Malachi sighed. “I wouldn’t care, but it’s generally considered bad form for the royal family to sit out. The only exceptions are for injuries or advancing pregnancies.”
She moved a bit closer to him, and he relished the movement. “I can’t fall down and twist my ankle real quick?”
A chuckle escaped, despite his attempt to stifle it. “No. Sorry.” He held her a bit closer as they continued to dance. “I have to say I’m loving this.”
“What?”
He bent lower until he could whisper in her ear. “Dancing with my wife.”
Chapter 18
Dancing with Malachi might have been Jessabelle’s new favorite activity or would be if there weren’t so many other people around. In their apartment, it would have been wonderful.
And there, maybe he would have kissed her again. It had been a while since he’d given her a good night kiss.
She seriously debated turning her ankle and playing it off as much more seriously injured than it really was. Then she could sit out the rest of the dances.
Jessabelle stifled a sigh and shifted a bit closer to the known quantity of her husband. She wouldn’t fake an injury, but she would do her best to stick with the people she knew. Christopher might be all right since she’d at least met Alexander before. She could pretend they were the same guy, even though she knew they weren’t.
The song ended, and Malachi stepped back. “I’m sorry, but it’s time.”
She nodded and whispered an internal “thank you” to the heavens when Rick stepped in. At least she kind of knew him, and he was happily married. Rick was safe, though based on what she knew of the man, “safe” didn’t describe his normal behavior. He spent most of his time trekking the backside of nowhere all around the world.
“How are you holding up?” her new dance partner asked.
“Fine.” Was the answer partially accurate? Yes. Was it the whole story? No. Would she give him any more information? Not if she could help it.
“You don’t have to pretend with any of us, Jessabelle. Believe me. Most of us don’t enjoy these shindigs as much as we probably should. Ellie and I would rather be hiking somewhere. Christiana would probably prefer to be working to restore her country or spending time with her boyfriend. Addie’s never been a fan. Charlie still isn’t comfortable with his role in the spotlight. I think my little sister is probably the most comfortable of all of us, except maybe Yvette and that could just be because she’s not old enough to know any better yet.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak.
“So, how are you really holding up?”
How could she not answer now? “Like Prince Charlemagne, I suppose. I’m not comfortable in the spotlight.”
“And I wouldn’t call him Charlemagne either. He hates it. Just Charlie will do nicely, I’m sure.”
“I will take it under consideration, Prince Richard.” She used the title without thinking.
“Oh!” He faked shock. “Say it ain’t so, Jessabelle! Not you, too!” He turned more serious. “We’re practically family. You might be the newest member for the moment, but you’re family. Please. It’s Rick.”
“I will do my best to remember. I promise.”
“And if you ever need someone to talk to about being thrown into the limelight, I’m sure Charlie or Ellie would be happy to commiserate with you.”
“I will keep that in mind.” Jessabelle doubted she would call up Prince Richard’s wife, but she wouldn’t tell him that.
The dancing continued and, as Malachi promised, she stayed with men she already knew. With Prince Charlemagne, they talked about whether he would prefer a boy or a girl. His wife sat out most of the dancing portion of the evening, begging off due to her pregnancy. When dancing began to wind down, Jessabelle excused herself to use the restroom before the auction started. The dancing hadn’t ended, but she made her way to the table. In a few more minutes, she joined the applause for the musicians as everyone returned to their seats. Malachi sat next to her, leaving his seat somewhat pushed out from the table. That allowed him to stretch out his legs, and he seemed more relaxed than usual. The rest of the royal family members also seemed more casual, despite their formal attire.
One of Malachi’s arms went around the back of her chair. His hand massaged her shoulder, gently encouraging her to relax as well. The first few items being auctioned off held little interest for her, but the tenth item made her sit up a bit.
“Do you want to know more about your genealogy? DNA tests can match you with others in the database. Yes, even if you’re adopted, you may be able to find family members. Immediate family members can be found, as well as those more distantly related. This package includes not only DNA analysis, but up to twenty-five hours of consultations and investigations by one of the researchers at Jamison Genealogy.”
Jessabelle twisted the fabric of her dress around her fingers. Why couldn’t royalty bid again? And who decided she was royalty? Just because she married Malachi didn’t mean she felt like royalty. She leaned forward, desperately wishing she knew how to bid so she could do it anyway.
Malachi’s hand on her shoulder forced her to sit back a bit. “We can do that ourselves, Mia Belle. You don’t need to win it here. We’ll find out who’s the best in the business and contact them. I’ll pay anything for you to find out what you need to know, okay?” Gentle pressure encouraged her to lean toward him. When he kissed the side of her head, she closed her eyes and imagined, just for a moment, she were truly comfortable in situations like this. Not just being in public, but being so close to her husband.
“You’re sure?”
“Completely sure. I know how much it must mean to you to find out. We’ll figure out how to do it with complete discretion so your name isn’t splashed all over the tabloids.”
“Thank you.” Did she really want to know? Part of her did, and part was scared of what she’d find. That she’d been unwanted from the beginning. It could be that her parents were young or otherwise unable to care for her. Or it could be any one of a million other things that she didn’t want to know about.
“Just let me know when you’re ready.” Malachi wouldn’t push her, but would let her tell him when she was ready to begin the search. She liked that about him. He didn’t push her unless his father made him. She’d like him better if he stood up to his father, but she understood how difficult that could be.
The auction came to a close and so did the fundraiser. The flight back to Montevaro to drop those family members off was uneventful, as was the remaining flight to Mevendia. The four of them all rode in the back of one limo to the palace. Jessabelle was grateful they were let out at different places. William and Yvette went in the door closest to the apartment they still shared with the king and queen. A few seconds later, Malachi got out and turned to help her. They went in the side door, and Jessabelle was more than grateful for the small elevator leading to their apartment.
They left the elevator, with Malachi standing to the side to let her exit first. She started for their bedroom but stopped when Malachi spoke.
“Do you need anything from me?” He undid one of his cuff links as she watched.
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay. I have a bit of work to do. I’ll be in before too long.”
Jessabelle just nodded and turned to walk away. She’d hoped to spend time with him, but his work was more important.
If only it would hurt less.
* * *
Christiana took extra care choosing her outfit. It was not something she wanted her stylist’s help with. She wanted to do this herself. There had been hints about the dinner tonight, but she could not be sure until it happened.
A proposal.
He had been promising one was imminent, and something told Christiana tonight was the night. He had ordered a special dinner in the most formal dining room. He’d texted her to let her know he was coming over the day before. She only knew about the dinner because her assistant, Diana, had let
something slip.
Surely a proposal would warrant a fancy dinner, right?
Sometimes she worried a bit about marrying the first man she ever dated, but he made her feel better about herself. Was that not what a good relationship should do? Addie and Rick both married the first person they really dated. Ana was marrying one of two men she had dated. It did not have to be a bad thing, right?
After receiving word he’d arrived, Christiana headed to the reception area where she always met him.
“Hello, Chris.” His smooth tone turned her insides to mush.
She stood on her tiptoes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Hello. How was your day?”
He headed for the dining area, launching into a tirade about the toll recent changes to regulations were taking on his business and his bottom line. Though he did not come right out and say it, he certainly implied she was to blame. And, in reality, she was. After the discovery of Henry’s deceit, she had insisted on rolling back a number of regulations designed to unfairly benefit certain businesses. Not all of the businesses affected were owned by people who even knew Henry, much less had been in collusion with him. The result was a lack of preferential treatment for Henry’s known associates, but also a burdensome change in business practices for those who had nothing to do with him.
Like the man still ranting as he paced through the dining room, stopping only long enough to pour himself a drink and toss it back.
He did not ask about her day. He rarely did. She knew he did not want to know too much about the things she was doing for fear it would somehow be seen as favoritism. But tonight…
She wanted to hear, she really did, but she also wanted a chance to unburden herself. A chance to lean on someone else, just for a bit, as she tried to figure out where the funding for several orphanages was going to come from, ones she was legally forbidden from simply funding herself. Instead, she sat quietly, offering empty platitudes when they were called for.
His rant lasted through the fabulous dinner, though he complained several times to the server about his meat being too dry and his wine not being dry enough.
Dessert was served on a terrace overlooking the capital city. A beautiful view, to be sure, but not the one Christiana preferred. She would rather look out over the vast expanse of the Mediterranean on the other side of the palace, but she said nothing.
Finally, as they finished the lighter-than-air concoction, he glanced at her. “It’s time, Chris.”
“Time?” She glanced at her watch. “Time for what?”
“Time for you to decide if you’re going to plan a wedding, or if this relationship has reached a conclusion.”
Christiana blinked twice. “Pardon?”
“A wedding, Chris.” He took another drink. “Are we getting married? I need to make decisions about the business, but what those decisions will be are different if I’m going to be married to the queen.”
“All right,” she said slowly, still not quite certain where the tone and rhetoric had come from. They had talked marriage before but in very different context and with much more loving inflections.
He set his drink down and sighed. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m not being very romantic.” He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and earnest. “I want to marry you. I hope you know that.” His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair. “And I don’t have a ring yet. I need one fit for the queen and with my company struggling, I can’t get one right now. I will,” he promised. “I don’t know when, but I’ll find one that’s worthy of you before the wedding, whenever that is.”
Christiana stuffed her disappointment down deep inside. It was not the dream proposal she would have preferred, but she understood his difficult day and how strapped for cash he seemed to be.
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Chris.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Forgive me and marry me.”
Christiana gave him a smile, one she was not sure she truly meant, then nodded. “Of course I will marry you.”
His head dropped then lifted, a big smile on his face. “You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”
They talked for another thirty minutes, about this and that and a little bit of everything, but when he finally went home, Christiana went to her apartment deeply disappointed.
They were finally engaged, but he still had not kissed her.
* * *
Malachi leaned back in his desk chair, tapping his pen against his chin. Something wasn’t right in Ravenzario. Henry Eit was still imprisoned on Pirate’s Island, but something still didn’t sit quite right. If only he could put his finger on it. Christiana had a steady boyfriend, but, to the best of Malachi’s knowledge, no one had ever met him. He turned it over in his mind for a few more minutes, but came to no conclusions. Christiana’s security team and Alexander surely had things well under control.
Purposely setting his concerns aside, he woke his computer and started researching companies to help Jessabelle find out more about her family of origin. Several local outfits popped up, but the one that piqued his interest was the same one who had the package up for auction earlier in the evening. A few keystrokes later, Malachi knew which company they would use. Jamison Genealogy was a subsidiary of Jamison Enterprises. They had just met Josh Wilson, the man who owned that company. How fortuitous. A quick email to Josh would get the ball rolling. If anyone could understand the need for discretion, Josh would.
It would take Jessabelle’s approval to get started, but gathering information about the process would be a good place to begin. With that sent, he typed up a couple more letters he needed to send and prepared to shut things down. Before he could, his email notification popped up. Josh had sent a PDF containing forms for them to fill out along with more information about how it worked. He assured Malachi that, if they decided to use Jamison Genealogy, the case would be handled with the utmost discretion and geography wouldn’t be an issue, though travel expenses might raise the overall cost.
Cost wasn’t an issue. He’d go to the ends of the earth to help Jessabelle get the answers she needed. Malachi found his wife sound asleep when he entered their room. There would be time enough for them to talk tomorrow.
When morning came, Jessabelle had already left for her father’s house. He found a note on the side table telling him she’d likely spend the night there so she could work later and start early. She just wanted to be done. He didn’t blame her. A look at his schedule before getting dressed made him sigh. She wouldn’t be happy about the appearance. It was probably on her schedule too, but had she checked it? He knew she hated her official schedule and all the public appearances that went along with it, but there was no choice.
This time, he let Melinda, her still-temporary assistant shared with Yvette, take care of letting her know.
Chapter 19
“Why do you keep pushing this?” Lizbeth rarely stood up to her father, and she really couldn’t claim this was standing up to him, but questioning was the closest she’d ever come.
Her father cut quite an imposing figure when he crossed his arms like that. “The king told me many years ago he intended for you to marry Malachi.”
She was supposed to marry him? “Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “You were thirteen. You would have had no say in the matter.”
No say in her own marriage? Even though she would have chosen the same groom, it didn’t sit well with Lizbeth.
“Why do you think you were suddenly invited to all of those balls? To be co-chairs of those charities? Because of your qualifications? Not hardly. I gave hefty donations to secure those spots for you. Malachi should have come up with the idea himself, making it much simpler to write up the marriage contract.”
Years of hearing his cutting words allowed Lizbeth to keep her bitterness under control. “Then why didn’t you just write it up without asking either one of us? Just do it?” Did she really want to know the answer?
“Antonio wasn’t
sure Malachi would go along with it.”
“He went along with the contract the king did sign.” This time a bit of bitterness did seep in.
“Yes, he did. The king threatened to cut him off if he didn’t. Malachi learned about the plan for the two of you three years ago, but every time the king pressed he refused.”
Unasked questions swam through Lizbeth’s mind. She and Malachi had never discussed marriage. Had her father really talked to the king about it? Or was he covering something up? Lizbeth wasn’t sure what she believed.
“Why the king agreed to let him marry that mousy girl, I’ll never know, but when he called to tell me about it, I reminded him of the codicils that go along with the marriage contracts. Malachi would not have set you to the side if you hadn’t conceived in six months. His father wouldn’t have allowed it.” He gave a sly wink. “You wouldn’t have given Malachi any reason to even consider it.”
The implications made Lizbeth’s face burn. True, when she thought she would marry Malachi someday, she’d figured there was enough spark for them to enjoy that aspect of married life. To have her father talking about it so brazenly? Only rapid blinking kept the tears at bay.
His chuckle told her he’d noticed anyway. “Don’t worry. You’ll be in the prince’s bed before you know it. And if, by some miracle, she does conceive, you’ll be William’s wife. Surely you’ll be able to keep him far more faithful than his father ever was.”
Lizbeth wanted to leave, to run far away, hide out. Change her identity. Escape whatever fate her father had planned for her. If Malachi was half the husband Lizbeth knew he would be, it was far better than what her father expected her to have to settle for. She’d never understood how the queen put up with her husband’s philandering ways. The breathless, heart pounding, near-euphoria she felt when she danced close to Malachi? Maybe the queen felt that for the king and was willing to overlook his infidelities to have him and to be queen one day.
Her father walked across the room, stopping mere inches from her, forcing her to look up to see him. “You will do nothing to jeopardize this. You will be one of Mevendia’s princesses by the end of the year. You will keep either prince happy. Your future depends on it.”
Hand-Me-Down Princess Page 14