Accidentally Royal_An Accidental Marriage Romance

by R. S. Lively

  Piper and Aurora are mine and I'm not going to let them go.

  When I show up at Piper's house, it's quiet. Her car isn’t in the driveway, and the house itself seems still compared to normal. No lights are on either. In a panic, I run up to the porch and cup my hands around my eyes to look into the window. I should be seeing her living room with the plush floral couch and loveseat crowded into a space too small for the furniture. Instead, the welcoming, comfortable room is bare. I angle my hands and eyes to turn my attention deeper into the house. From what I can see, the rest of the house is empty, as well.

  I pull out my phone from my pocket and call the number that sent the message. It goes immediately to voicemail. I leave a message as I rush back to the car. I have to find her. I don't even know where I should look, but I'm not stopping until I talk to Piper.

  An hour later, I pull into the bar where I met several of her friends when I first visited here. They had mentioned then that this was where they spent most of their free time. It's the only thing I can think of. I've driven around the city. I've stopped at every place she showed me, hoping Piper might have decided to go on another historic tour of Westover. I don't know where Tabitha lives, or where I would find the few living relatives she had mentioned back then. This is my only shot.

  I walk into the bar and head toward the back where we had sat at a large, raised corner booth. I see people sitting there as I approach, and one of them glances over her shoulder at me. I immediately recognized her but don't remember her name. She was there the night I met Piper's friends, sitting in the exact same place she is now. By the glower she shoots in my direction, I can tell she remembers me.

  "What are you doing here?" she hisses before I can even get to her side of the table.

  "I'm looking for Piper," I say. "Do you know where she is?"

  "I might," the woman says defiantly.

  "Lucy, don't be that way," a man sitting at the table scolds.

  "Don't be what way?" Lucy asks. "You've seen what this man did to Piper. He broke her heart."

  "I didn't mean to break her heart," I say. "I don't even know what I did to make her leave."

  "You ruined her life," Lucy says. "Just leave her the fuck alone."

  "Don't tell him that," another woman interjects. "That isn’t your decision to make."

  "We promised we'd protect her," Lucy says. "You saw how brokenhearted she was when she got back here. The last thing she needs is to see him again. He needs to leave before he causes any more damage."

  "I don't want to cause Piper any more damage," I say. "I didn't want to do that to begin with. I love her and our daughter. I came here to find both of them, so we can start our life together. If she'll have me. I'm not going to stop until she listens to what I have to say. But I can't find her. I've been to her house, and it's empty. I've called her, and it goes straight to voicemail."

  "Let me try to call her," the girl says. She pulls out her phone, presses a few commands, and waits. After a few seconds, she shakes her head. "It went straight to voicemail for me, too."

  "So, what am I going to do?"

  "Did you stop by her new house?" she asks.

  "Her new house?" I ask.

  She nods.

  "She moved. Well, she's actually still in the process of moving. If you can't find her at her old house, you should look at the new one. She just signed her lease on it yesterday, so she's probably over there trying to get things ready to move in. I can give you the address."

  "Yes," I say. "Thank you..."

  I hesitate, and she smiles warmly at me.

  "Karina," she says.

  "Thank you, Karina. I really appreciate this."

  She scribbles something on the back of an order form we grab from a passing waitress, and hands it to me. I glance down at it and recognize the name of the street as one I've already driven down today. I hurry out of the bar, climbing into my car and head in the direction of the street. When I arrive at the number written on the form, I still don't see Piper's car. I notice the corner of a garage peeking out from behind the house, though, and wonder if she could have parked there. Climbing out of my car, I walk up to the front door and ring the bell.

  A few seconds later the door opens, and Piper stares out at me.

  "You weren't expecting pizza, were you?" I ask.

  I mean it playfully, but Piper doesn't smile.

  "What are you doing here?" she asks.

  "I came to talk to you," I say. "You send me that video but nothing else? Nothing? You can't even pick up a phone call?"

  Just as she did the last time I surprised her by showing up at her house, Piper steps out of the way to allow me to enter. A strong smell of fresh paint hits me.

  "I couldn't pick up my phone calls," she says.

  "Why not?"

  "Because I ruined my phone."

  "What did you do to it?"

  “I tried to be one of those super moms and breastfeed while I painted the walls of the living room. I dropped my phone in a can of paint.”

  My lips tingle and I try to fight it, but a laugh bubbles up my throat and pours out of my mouth. As the laughter runs through me, I hear Piper begin to chuckle, then laugh as well. Finally, I get control of myself and reach out for her hands. She offers them to me, and I draw her in close.

  "It's all right now," I say. "I'm here, and no matter how many cans of paint you throw your phone into, I'm not going anywhere."

  Piper steps away from me.

  "Christian, I heard you talking to Frederik. That's why I left."

  "Heard me talking to Frederik? What do you mean?"

  "I heard the two of you talking about ending our marriage at the end of the ninety-day requirement. He told you we couldn’t get an annulment because if we did, Aurora will lose her position in the royal family. Were you not talking about that?"

  "No, I was. And then we talked about divorce, and the procedure for that, and how that would impact Aurora, and you."

  I see all the color drain out of Piper's face, and I reach for her hands again.

  "If that's true, Christian, why are you here? There is still time before we have to start the process."

  "Piper, listen to me. I didn't ask Frederik how to dissolve our marriage, or how it was going to impact all of us because I don't want to be with you. I love you."

  "You seriously expect me to believe that?" she asks. "How many times have you heard of someone saying 'oh, honey, I love you so much let's get divorced'?"

  My eyes narrow. "I never said that, and I’m not going to. I’m not lying to you, Piper. All that matters to me is my family; you and Aurora."

  "If that’s not it, then what did you ask Frederik?"

  "I didn't go to him because I don't love you, or because I don't want to be married to you. I sought his advice because I wanted to give you a choice."

  "A choice?" she asks.

  "Yes," I say. "It doesn't escape me that you were essentially tricked into all of this. From the second I upgraded you into that first-class seat, you weren’t really making your own decisions. I don't want that for you. I've known since the day we got married that you might decide to not continue with the marriage. If that was going to be the case, I wanted to be absolutely prepared for it, and for whatever it would mean for me, and my relationship with my daughter."

  Piper

  "You were going to leave the decision on whether to end our marriage or not up to me?" I ask incredulously.

  "Yes," Christian says. "Like I said, I want this to be your choice. No matter how much I love you, I don’t want you to be with me if you feel like you were tricked into it. It should be your decision.”

  "What would you have done if I hadn’t left Cambria, but came to you at the end of the ninety days and told you I didn't want to stay married to you? How would you have reacted if I said I wanted to go ahead with a divorce? Would you have just let me walk away?"

  "I would have let you go, but I would have done everything my power to convince you tha
t you were wrong. I would have accepted your decision, but I would have fought for you. I know that we are supposed to be together. But you are your own person, Piper. You can make your own decisions. It doesn’t matter what I want, if you don’t want the same."

  His answer makes my heart flutter and my thighs tingle, but it's not quite enough. There's something missing, but I don't know what it is.

  "What do you want from me?" I ask.

  "You know what I want."

  I shake my head.

  "I need to hear it, Christian. I need you to tell me what you want. What actually matters to you."

  Christian takes a step toward me, closing the space between us until we’re only inches apart. I feel goosebumps raising on my arms.

  "I want you," he says in a calm, even voice. “What matters to me is you and Aurora. What I care about, more than anything in this damn world, is the family I created with you, and the future that we can have together. I want you to be my wife, Piper. Not just temporarily, but for the rest of my life. But if you don't want to be married, or can't imagine yourself being part of the royal family, I'll leave it behind. I'm willing to give up my right to succession if that's what it takes to keep my family together. As much as I want to serve my country, and continue my family's legacy, not only for my brother but myself, I love you too much to throw this away. I walked away from you for them once before, but I’m not going to do it again. I want us to be a family. Whatever it takes.”

  "I'd never ask you to do that," I say. "I'd never ask you to abdicate the throne or give up your family for me. That’s not what I want."

  Before I can tell Christian what it is I want, he raises one hand to silence me.

  "Don't answer yet," he says. "Think about it for a couple of days."

  "I don't need to think about it, Christian."

  "Do it anyway," he says. "This is something I want you to really think through. It’s an incredibly difficult decision to make. I want to make sure you feel confident that you are making the right one. For all of us.”

  His response strikes me as extremely strange. Normally, Christian would have wanted my answer immediately. He never would have told me to wait a few days. But I don't argue with him. I'm trying to get better at controlling my temper.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christian

  When I came to find Piper, I knew I wanted to give her an experience she deserves, but didn't get to have. I'm not sure of the details, but I know the first step I need to take is to talk to her grandfather. I didn't get to meet him the first time I was in Massachusetts, but she spoke of him fondly. As her oldest living male relative, he's the one I know I rightfully need to talk to, and I can only hope he's willing to talk to me.

  Somehow, I expect the senior living home where Grant Ashcroft has lived for the past 15 years to be dark and foreboding. I feel guilty for my assumption as I approach the building and realize it's welcoming and cheerful. That the atrium is bright and inviting when I step inside, and so is the broad smile of the man coming toward me. Even though I've never met Piper's grandfather, I immediately know this must be him. There's something about him that reminds me of her, though it's hard to pick out exactly what it is. He walks toward me with his hands extended, and clasps mine between them as soon as he's close enough. This man seems vibrant and almost youthful, and I can understand why Piper would want to spend more time with him then she's been able to during her long trips.

  "You must be Christian," he says.

  His accent is heavy, and it makes me smile. Piper has almost no accent, and I can imagine she's trained it out of herself, so she can easily communicate with the people she helps around the world. I suddenly become very aware of my own muted Cambrian accent, also faded from years of travel abroad, though admittedly with far more partying than Piper's.

  "Yes," I say. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Ashcroft."

  "Please," he says, "Grant. All that Mr. Ashcroft business makes me sound old."

  I laugh, and he gestures for me to follow him. We make our way through the atrium and down a long hallway away from the recreational rooms, and toward the residential portion of the building. He pauses at a door, and uses a key to open it. I'm not sure what to expect when we go inside, but beyond the door is what looks like a small, cluttered, but clean apartment.

  "Come on in," he says. "Make yourself at home. You might have to find your way around a few knick-knacks. My wife always used to say they were ridiculous, and didn't go with anything. But I just told her they went with each other. Sort of like us. Neither one of us ever fit in with anybody else, but we matched up perfectly, so we stuck together. That's why I can't bear the thought of getting rid of my collection. I don't have her anymore, but at least they can still have each other."

  He's just rambling, but I'm touched by the sentiment behind his words. I carefully move a pair of odd-looking flamingo statues off a chair and sit down.

  "I really appreciate you letting me come here and talk to you," I say.

  "Anytime," Grant says. "I never get to see Piper anymore. She's always off saving the world. I'm proud of her, don't get me wrong. I show off pictures of her with the best of them, but it would be nice to be able to see her more often. It seems like when she comes to town, she just breezes through. She's always promising to come back and spend more time, but it doesn't seem to ever happen. But I guess you took care of that for us, didn't you?"

  He gives a husky chuckle.

  "That's actually why I wanted to talk to you. I know Piper's father has been gone for several years now."

  "That's right," he says. "I don't think she ever got over it. It was hard for me, of course. That was my son, my only son. Losing him, it was like losing a piece of myself. But to be honest with you, I was able to move on. I had other things I needed to keep living for. Watching Piper try to get through it, though, was the worst part. It was harder watching her grieve than it was to grieve myself."

  "She said it was really hard on her," I say.

  "Piper just completely fell apart. He was her whole world. Even when she was growing up and so many of her friends were getting that rebellious streak where they don't want to spend time with their parents, she never did. Her Daddy was her best friend. They did everything together. When he died, it was like a piece of Piper went with him. I don't know if you can really understand what I mean by that unless you've seen it, but it was awful to watch her try to move on, and never quite figure out how."

  "She says that's why she started doing so many humanitarian trips."

  "I believe that," Grant says, nodding. "Going off on those trips meant she didn't have to be here. She didn’t have to see all the places she used to go to with Robert, or his grave, and she didn't have to live in his house. I think there's more to it than just that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "There are so many other things she could have done to get away from here. She could have gone and studied at another college, or lived abroad, or worked a different job that let her travel to more desirable places. But she didn't do any of that. She specifically chose to do these agricultural trips."

  "Well, she's passionate about helping others—"

  "I think you're right about that, but Piper doesn't just want to help people. I think part of her is paying penance for her mother. Even if she doesn't really realize she's doing it, I think a small piece of her feels guilty."

  "Why would she feel guilty? She was just a little girl when her parents divorced."

  "That's true," he admits. "But it's not that she feels guilty over her parents splitting up. Did she tell you what happened to her mother?"

  "Just that they got divorced. She says she was really young, and that she doesn't know why it happened. She doesn't have any memories of her mother."

  "I'm sure she doesn't know why," Grant says. "That's not really something you talk to a little girl about. But I venture to say she knows more than she's telling you. The best way I can put it is her mother made some decisions that sh
e shouldn't have. Just going to keep it at that, because I think it's Piper's place to tell you. But I feel like knowing that has impacted Piper her entire life. I think she feels guilty for being the daughter of someone capable of doing those things, almost like the negativity stuck to her, and now it's her responsibility to make up for it."

  "So, she does humanitarian work as some form of penance?"

  He nods.

  "I truly believe she cares about people, and wants to give them the best life possible. But she also wants to get rid of some of that bad energy her mother sent out into the world. Have you heard about things like that? Energy? That's another one of those things my wife used to talk about. She did say there was energy in everything, and that you had to feel it to really understand it. I heard it all the time, but I guess I didn't feel it enough, because I definitely didn't understand it. When I think about Piper’s situation, though, I feel like I might understand it, at least a little."

  I sigh. This is more complicated than I was anticipating. "Well, I know she's done a huge amount of good in my life. That's why I want to talk to you about her. If Robert was still alive, I'd ask him. But since he's not, I hope you'll give me the honor of permitting me to propose to your granddaughter."

  "Aren't the two of you already married? I don't keep up on the news all that much, but I feel like I heard that the two of you got married in Cambria."

  "We did," I say.

  "Then why are you asking if you can propose to her? Aren't you going about this a bit backwards, son?"

  "Yes, sir, I am. I'm not going to deny that. Pretty much everything about Piper and me has been backwards. We are already married, but she didn't get the experience she deserves. I want to fix that."

  "By proposing to her?"