by Avery Wilde
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think he had another in him anyway. Now, back on you, I want to know every… actually, no, broad strokes first. In one word; describe it.”
So many words went through my head, it’d been the sort of evening that made me grasp for superlatives, but when asked for one word there was only one that would do. “Beautiful.”
Sarah shrugged. “I think you may be talking about a different ‘it’ to me. Although not necessarily. But we can circle back to that. I mean, I know you didn’t have a tape measure on you, but a general description will do.”
“I’ve missed you,” I said, grinning.
“Not tonight, I bet.”
“Maybe not…”
“Now,” Sarah picked up her laptop and moved it so she could relax in a comfortable chair. “One second.” She hopped up and returned with a large glass of wine. “Right, now, tell me everything. And I mean everything. I want the full blow by blow, so to speak. Omit no detail, however filthy. In fact, focus on the filthy.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Spoilsport.”
I shrugged. “I just don’t want to make you jealous.”
Sarah leaned eagerly forward. “He was that good, was he?”
I grinned. “Better.”
Through wheedling and teasing and prying and cajoling, Sarah managed to extract a few more details about the experience out of me, who after tussling between ladylike discretion and a desire to brag about how amazing my night had been, settled for a happy middle-ground between the two.
“So now you’re the prince’s plaything,” Sarah said when she’d got all the specifics she was going to get out of me. “Bit of a cliché though, eh? The prince and the maid.”
“It’s not like that,” I insisted, although a persistent voice at the back of my mind wondered…could it be like that?
Sarah sighed, and for the first time seemed serious. “Look, Keira, I can tell you’re excited and I don’t blame you, and I don’t want to be a wet blanket but…maybe take it easy? You met the guy and he lied to you to get you into bed. You met him again and he acted in a way that couldn’t be called romantic. Then you met him again, had one nice—albeit brief—conversation, and you had sex in a changing room. You take those events in isolation and this does not sound like the sort of man you’re looking for. It sounds like the sort of man I’m looking for. Trust me, I’ve been with my share of guys like that.”
“I guess.”
“Trust me, I’m not saying this to put a downer on your night. My point is: okay, maybe he’s changed, maybe he’s not the guy we know from all the papers and magazines and dodgy photos on Twitter. But nothing you’ve described to me completely convinces me of that.”
“If you’d just heard what he said…” I began.
“Guys will say anything to get laid,” Sarah said bluntly with a deal of authority. “I’m not saying he’s definitely using you. For all I know he’s completely on the same level and this is just the perfect little love story. I’m just saying, that doesn’t happen very often, so tread carefully and don’t get your hopes up.”
It was good advice, and it came from a good place, and I had to admit that in the darkest recesses of my mind, I’d been wondering the same sort of thing ever since I’d started to make my way home. And not just that.
“I don’t know what to do next,” I admitted. “I mean…I’m having an affair with the boss. That’s just not me, it’s more…”
“Me?” Sarah suggested.
“I didn’t say that!”
She snickered. “Its fine, I said it. It’s true. And you and I are very different people who look for different things from the guys we hook up with. You’re playing in a different league now. In fact, I think you’re playing a different sport, and one with very different rules. And as a veteran of this particular sport, I gotta tell you…people play dirty.”
I smiled. It was so easy talking to Sarah; nothing was off-limits, I could say anything in complete security and confidence and knew that the advice I would get back would be honest and well-meaning, if not always good.
“There’s the whole royal thing as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not really…” I struggled for the word. “Appropriate.”
“Appropriate?” Sarah pulled a face. “What are you now, the Queen of England?”
“She’s actually quite nice if you catch her on the right day.”
“I’m sure that over there in merry old England there’s all sorts of things that aren’t ‘appropriate’,” Sarah continued with the authority of one who had never left US soil. “Cold beer, sandwiches with the crusts left on, forgetting to tug your forelock when the lord of the manor comes past.”
“I haven’t travelled back in time,” I said with a grin. “Does all your information on England come from watching repeats of Downton Abbey?”
“Pretty much,” Sarah admitted. “But my point remains, who gives a rat’s ass what’s ‘appropriate’? You’re a woman, he’s a man, and the rest is all bullshit.”
“I’m working for his family,” I said. “Office romances are doomed at the best of times, and when you add in the fact that the tabloid press would have a field day if they found out, then…I really don’t want my face on the front page of The Sport.”
“The what?”
“It’s a newspaper over here.”
“Dumb name.”
“Maybe, but that’s not the point. I can just see this going so badly.”
Sarah shook her head. “You see, you’re condemned out of your own words: office romance. And you’re right, office romances never work. But a casual fumble in the stationery cupboard during lunch break is absolutely fine. You’re already looking at this as a romance and I say again—be careful. He just doesn’t seem to me like that kind of guy. He’s been trying to get you into bed since he met you and you think that now he’s succeeded, he’s all of a sudden looking for something long term and heartfelt? I don’t want to smash your dreams, Keira, I really don’t, but I’m not seeing it.”
I nodded glumly. “You’re right. I won’t let it happen again.”
Sarah nearly choked on her red wine. “What, are you high?! I never said that! I said be careful. Be hopeful that its love, but be aware that it might just be sex. And be grateful that if it is just sex, at least it’s good sex. Don’t break up with the best you’ve ever had! I didn’t suggest that even remotely.”
“I don’t want it to be just sex. I like him. Despite everything, I like him.”
Sarah leaned forward. “Be honest with yourself. If you found out that for him, this was about nothing but sex…would you want to stop having it?”
I opened my mouth to reply. Of course I would stop, I wasn’t interested in meaningless sex, especially with someone for whom I might have real feelings. That could only end badly for both of us. But the words to express that just didn’t come as my mind took me back to the events of earlier that evening.
Could I really give up that kind of mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex under any circumstances?
Maybe not…
“That’s what I thought,” Sarah said smugly, catching the look on my face. “If you want my advice, hope for the best, expect the worst, and in the meantime, lie back and enjoy the ride.”
And, although it was starkly contrary to everything I’d ever believed about myself, I thought that in this particular situation and with this particular man, that was pretty good advice. Of course, it was also probably a really stupid thing to do, opening me up to getting my heart broken and my face on the front of every tabloid newspaper in Britain, but after a lifetime of alternating the decision-making process between my head and my heart, I thought it might be a good idea to let my libido have a turn in charge.
It was about time, right?
Chapter 11
Andrew
The sound of a vacuum cleaner going in my room first thing in the morning was usually enough for
me to start the day in a bad mood, but this morning it was music to my ears. The girl of my dreams was playing a little joke on me, and I was more than ready to play one back on her—one which I was sure would be better received this time round. As I went to throw back the covers and reveal myself in all my glory, I looked across the room at Keira with a smug smile on my face.
And thankfully I had the presence of mind to pull the covers back before I’d gone too far.
“Good morning, your Highness,” said the girl who was attractive in her own way but was absolutely and in no way Keira. “Sorry if I woke you, but the Queen insisted.”
“Er…of course,” I said. If my mother was going to passive aggressively use the staff to punish me every time I did something to irritate her, then I’d probably never get another decent night’s sleep. More importantly, where was Keira? A sinking feeling claimed my stomach; it was hard not to link the fact that my mother was obviously pissed at me to Keira’s absence.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” I said, not wanting to ask where Keira was for fear of causing trouble, and clinging to the possibility that it might just be her day off.
“Not new to the house, your Highness,” the girl replied. “But Rogers asked me to take over as your personal maid.”
“Permanently?”
“As far as I know, your Highness. Is that all right? I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, that’s fine, that’s fine. I should probably start getting up at a more reasonable time, anyway,” I said.
I would’ve loved to ask why she’d needed to take over and where Keira was, but Rogers would hardly have shared that information, and besides, I didn’t want to raise any suspicions.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, and the girl simply nodded and continued cleaning the floor.
As I showered, I rushed through the endless possibilities in my mind. It could hardly be a coincidence that this sudden staff reorganization had happened the day after Keira and I had hooked up in the day-staff changing room. Was it possible that someone had seen us? Yes, of course it was possible. We’d locked the door but presumably keys existed, there were windows, and for all I knew there were security cameras. I couldn’t speak for Keira, but I’d been so caught up in the moment with her that I wouldn’t have noticed if the house’s entire staff had come in and cheered us on. Christ, it’d been so hot. There was nothing better than a woman who could give just as good as she got, and those moments last night had proved Keira was like that in more ways than one. The fire in her eyes, the way she’d held her own…my cock was practically begging me to fuck her again and again.
So the big question now was: what had happened to her? Had she been fired? If so, I would never forgive myself. Perhaps she’d just been reassigned?
If she had been fired, would she think I was behind it? Selfish though it was, that thought gave me pause. The idea of her being fired was bad, but the idea that she might think I’d ordered her to be fired now that I’d had my fun with her was unbearable.
One way or another, I had to find her.
The great thing about being a prince was that people very seldom questioned what you were doing anywhere, which meant that I could go and check on the staff schedule with relative impunity. I got a few startled looks from various maids, footmen and so on, but I answered them all with a smile as I made my way to the complex notice board that told the house staff where they were working and what they were doing on any given day. And there she was on the list! Keira Valencia.
Relief overwhelmed me in finding that she hadn’t been fired, which didn’t mean that I was out of the woods yet; she might still think that I’d asked for her to be reassigned. I ran a finger along the line that showed where Keira was due to be. Her duties as my personal maid had been scored out with a ruler-straight line and scribbled in were her new duties as…
I frowned in bemused surprise—this was quite the reassignment.
“Can I help you, your Highness?”
I turned to find Rogers standing behind me. The man was smiling, but not in a way that suggested happiness, or indeed anything positive at all. While it was true that a prince could move with impunity in his own house without being questioned or frowned upon, that always came with a caveat: downstairs, the butler was King. While he hadn’t been born to rank or title, Rogers ruled his domain with as much authority as any monarch, and somehow, though I wasn’t sure how, that authority comfortably extended over any members of the family who might stray down here.
“I was just…” I couldn’t help thinking that I ought to be able to say ‘none of your business’ and leave it at that, but I just couldn’t. “Looking for something,” I finished lamely.
“Are you not satisfied with Margo?”
The new maid’s name was apparently Margo.
“Oh, no. I mean, yes. She’s very good.” In my desire to throw Rogers off the scent, I became slightly too effusive. “Absolutely fabulous girl. She has completely satisfied me.”
Rogers stiffened slightly. “She can be replaced too, your Highness,” he said in a tone that managed to be at once respectful and yet also reprimanding.
From that, it was becoming increasingly clear that my worst fears about why Keira had been replaced were accurate and, since Rogers clearly knew the reason, I pressed further than discretion ought to have permitted. “She’s very capable, Rogers, but I do wonder why Keira was replaced.”
Rogers paused a while before answering, seemingly to inspect my face for some sign of ill-intent. “Her Majesty requested it,” he finally replied.
I drew in a breath. My mother. Dammit, I should’ve expected that. After what Keira had told me yesterday, I should’ve damn well known that this would happen. My mother detested conflict and hated discussing unpleasant matters, so instead she simply took quiet action, cutting a problem out like a cancer and disposing of it. As a family we had long since ceased to communicate properly, and this was how we sent messages to each other, through early morning vacuuming and reassigned servants. It was childish in its way, but I got the message loud and clear: don’t fool around with the staff.
But this time the system had fallen down, and the message was not deserved. I wasn’t just ‘fooling around’ with Keira, I actually really liked her. If she’d been a casual fling like all the other women I’d had in my life previously, then the inconvenience of her no longer coming to my bedroom every morning would’ve been enough to make me give her up and move on to someone less contentious. But she wasn’t a casual fling.
She was Keira. My Keira.
“Thank you, Rogers,” I said, turning to leave with the intent of hunting down Keira.
But that intent was apparently obvious to Rogers. “Your Highness?”
I turned back.
“Please,” Rogers still spoke respectfully, but there was so much more buried in those clipped tones, “do not underestimate how much I care for my staff.”
I nodded. “Believe it or not Rogers, I care for them too.”
It was only a flicker, but for an instant, I was sure that an expression of understanding, and maybe even approval, pasted across the granite façade of Rogers’ features.
“Very good, your Highness.”
***
At the back of the palace lay Richmond’s stables, although the word ‘stables’ failed to adequately convey the scale of the set-up. There were barns and paddocks, hay lofts, offices and living quarters for the dedicated army of grooms, farriers and stable boys and girls who cared for the Queen’s horses, and it was into this little village that I now strolled. My presence here excited far less interest than it did below stairs; it was one of the strange inconsistencies in British nobility that the gentry were not supposed to know how a dustpan and brush works, but should be willing and able to muck out a stable if called upon.
At the far end of the little complex was the small tack room. Saddles, bridles and other associated equestrian paraphernalia were kept in the large tack room but brought to
the small one when they needed polishing, and it was here that I found Keira, with a saddle across her knees.
“They seem to have put you as far away as possible.”
Keira started and a smile leapt across her face. The sight of that smile delighted me to my core; she was pleased to see me. But I also read relief into it and wondered if I’d been right, and she’d thought me responsible for her reassignment. I hoped not.
“I prefer it,” she said, still grinning. “There’s something almost zen about polishing a saddle. It’s certainly a hell of a lot better than cleaning your room.”
“You been around horses much?” I asked.
Keira laughed. “Nope. But I can more or less tell which end is which. If you give me a couple of guesses. But…I don’t know, it’s nice and peaceful out here. I don’t get to see the paintings as often, which is a shame, but there are advantages too.”
“You’re less likely to bump into members of my family?” I suggested.
“There is that,” Keira admitted. She looked coyly down at the saddle she was polishing. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to bump into you either.”
“You don’t have to bump into me,” I said, not taking my eyes off her for a second. “Wherever they move you, I’ll come looking.”
“Well, then,” Keira said, meeting my gaze. “I guess this job could be perfect. It’s usually empty in this tack room…”
I strode across the room and kissed her. I wasn’t sure if the moment was right but I couldn’t have waited any longer, and the saddle slid to the floor as Keira wrapped her arms around me, returning the kiss hungrily.
When we broke apart, I had a wicked smile on my face and a wicked idea in my mind.
“My brother and I used to play hide and seek around here.”
“That’s just a terrible pickup line,” Keira said with a smile, her eyes lit with mischief.
I said nothing, but stood on a chair in the corner of the room and grabbed a handle in the ceiling. I pulled and the trap door opened up, a ladder unfolding from it as it came.