by Rachel Hauck
Stephen slapped another layer of bricks around his heart. He needed to close this open wound in his life and do whatever it took to get Corina to sign the annulment without intel on Carlos. To that end, he’d endure whatever came his way.
“I take it your family knows? Otherwise, Susanna wouldn’t have paid attention to my tweet.”
Stephen nodded. “They know.” Nathaniel brought the whole mess to Mum when Stephen was in Florida. Then when Stephen returned home, she popped by to say her piece.
“I’d like to have been at your wedding.”
“Mum, if I’d have told you there would’ve been no wedding.”
“I’d have kept it a secret.”
“And broken Brighton law? Sorry, Mum, it’s not in you.”
Thomas returned to the car, tucking away his phone. “No crew in blue coveralls. We think it was a parent or someone at the tournament.”
“Who just happened to know where I was when Corina came asking?” Stephen squinted into the sun. Something seemed odd about the scenario. “And wearing coveralls?”
“Half the stadium saw you ride off on the cart with the girls. I’d say there’s a good chance. Anyway, I’m satisfied.”
“Then how about this?” Stephen said. “Have you heard of the Manor? A small inn on Market and Crescent?”
He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge, but my specialty is security, not Cathedral City’s hospitality.”
“The proprietor said it was built by King Stephen I,” Corina said. “The place is quaint, rustic. Trust me, I was as surprised as you. I spent a lot of my days here shopping Market Avenue and never saw anything like it between those giant stores.”
Stephen paced, his senses buzzing. “Corina, someone is spoofing you. King Stephen’s Manor was torn down.” It made no sense. Wait a minute. He snapped his fingers. “It’s a movie prop. Sure.” He smiled at his clever solution.
“Then why am I in it? As far as I can tell, I’m the only guest. Besides, I already went there and—” She shook her head. “Adelaide and Brill are too genuine to be acting.”
“The director, Jeremiah Gonda, is known for staging a scene from one of his movies in the premier city. I bet the proprietors are actors, Corina. And the inn just a set.”
“If it’s just a set, the director went all out. The place looks like it’s four hundred years old, yet my room is twenty-first century with a flat screen, Internet, sunken tub, granite bathroom tiles.”
“In King Stephen’s day, this city was Blarestoney and its main commerce was on Market and Crescent. Most of the trade was from shipping and farming. Later King Stephen would discover the richness of the mountain mines. Anyway, the film was shot on the north side of the island, where they built a replica city. It’d be just like Gonda to put a piece of it in Cathedral City for a premier publicity stunt.”
“And he picked me? Outside The Wellington? Sent some strange woman in a white coat—yes, coat—to ask me if I needed a place to stay?”
Stephen laughed. “It’s the perfect stunt. A beautiful woman, looking a bit tired and frayed, standing outside the city’s most luxurious hotel. Sure, this is all part of the premier. He probably recognized you.”
Corina visibly exhaled, her smile spreading wide. “You know, the more you talk, the more it makes sense. Why didn’t I think of that? Daddy will have a laugh when I tell him. Mr. Gonda created a great setup. I slept like a baby last night, and the proprietors are a dream. The food, fantastic.”
“Thomas? Can you check this out? See if Gonda registered the fake Manor with the city?” Stephen motioned to the car. “Corina, can we give you a lift to this mysterious Manor?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, no. I want to do some shopping.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow night.”
“Then I guess you will.”
Stephen bristled as he dropped into the passenger seat, sensing he was in some sort of standoff or competition. What was she up to?
In the car, Thomas steered out of the car park. “You’re being very gracious to her.”
“She is my wife.”
“So are you changing your mind?”
“No.” It was starting to physically pain him to reject her. “But Nathaniel suggested I charm her to get the annulment documents signed, and since he so boldly invited her to the family dinner on Sunday, I might as well be a prince and win her signature.”
“What if she’s still in love with you?”
Stephen powered his window down, the wind clearing his head. “She’s not. My only intention is to get her to see reason and sign the papers. Certainly I can achieve that without anyone being, or falling, in love.”
Take note, chap. Take note.
Thomas headed east toward the palace, passing the stadium and the main gate. Stephen watched out the window, and there on the corner stood a round man in blue coveralls, waving. and smiling.
FOURTEEN
It was Sunday evening, and the family waited in Nathaniel and Susanna’s palace apartment for their guest.
Stephen paced in front of the cold fireplace, his skin warm and brown from spending the day at the stadium, watching the youth rugby tournament. Leslie’s side failed today’s test, but they’d given their all. He was proud of them.
The tournament kept him distracted from his ankle, from this evening’s dinner with Corina as guest. The more he thought about it the more he wondered at her game.
She announced her invitation to dinner, and her acceptance, with boldness. As if throwing down the gauntlet. He knew her. She’d not stop until she got what she wanted.
”Stephen,” Mum said, patting the couch cushion. “Sit. This pacing cannot be good for your ankle.”
“I’m fine, Mum.” Nevertheless, Stephen dropped into the wingback chair adjacent to his mother and Henry, whom Mum married a year after Dad died. They’d been university sweethearts until Grandfather, Mum’s dad, decided he wanted a crown prince for his daughter.
Susanna entered, her blond hair flowing over her shoulder in wide curls. She wore jeans and a fitted blouse. “Corina is on her way. The chauffeur rang up twice to say he could not find any building between Gliden and Martings. Just an alley. So I had Corina wait for the driver on the corner.” She popped Stephen on the arm. “She seems really cool, dude.”
“What do you expect? I do have standards.”
Susanna perched on the arm of his chair. “I Googled her. She’s gorgeous. Mum, have you ever met her?”
“No, but I’m looking forward to it.” Mum gave Stephen the stink eye. The one she gave him when he was a boy and up to his short trousers in trouble.
“So, an heiress, a former Miss Georgia.” Susanna leaned down to Stephen. “I’ve got to give you props for picking a Georgia girl.”
Nathaniel entered on the tail end of the comment and chimed in. “Like brother, like brother. The Stratton men have good taste in women.” He kissed Susanna and popped Stephen on the knee. “Be nice to Corina, please.”
“I resent all of you. Treating me like a delinquent, an errant child.”
“Then don’t act like one, Stephen,” Mum said. “You did marry this girl, then sent her away without a word to us. I can’t quite understand it.”
Stephen crossed gazes with his brother. Mum did not have the full intel. “Sorry, Mum, I just did what I thought best.”
Henry folded up the paper he was reading and passed it to Stephen. “Says you’re in the walking boot for another two weeks. Is that true?”
Stephen bent forward, tapping the contraption that was helping him heal. “More like six weeks.”
“That long, son?”
“Sadly.”
“They’re attributing the Eagles’ loss to Italy on Sunday to your absence. We need our best winger come the Premiership.”
“Grady Hamstead’s a fine winger, Henry.” It pained Stephen to admit it, but true was true. “He’s faster than me in the clutch. They lost because they didn’t manage the scrum.”
Nathaniel’s butler, Malcolm, entered. “Miss Corina Del Rey has arrived.”
“She’s here.” Susanna jumped up, scurrying around the furniture to stand with Nathaniel by the living room door.
Henry and Mum stood, facing the doorway. Stephen positioned himself halfway between Mum and Henry, Nathaniel and Susanna.
For a moment, he resented her saying yes. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? What was she hoping to accomplish by coming here?
He adjusted his shirt collar, squaring his scarlet-and-grey striped pullover on his shoulders. Sunday night dinners were country casual since Susanna took over the hosting. Jeans, a top, something she referred to as “deck shoes,” were the standards.
Nathaniel and Stephen took to it right away. As did Henry. He’d been prime minister for years, but never a royal. Never caught up in staunch traditions.
Mum, however, found the change a challenge. Stephen glanced at her, giving her a smile. She was dressed in royal “casual.” A skirt and blouse. Stephen was certain Mum didn’t even own a pair of jeans.
He was proud of her, though, submitting to Susanna’s changes, allowing her to be the king’s wife, creating her own culture in the palace.
“She’s given up so much,” Mum told Stephen one evening. “Her country, her customs, her citizenship. I can give up Sunday night traditions. Learn to be casual.”
And that was why Brighton loved their Queen Campbell.
Suddenly Corina was at the door, dressed in an elegant gold gown, clinging to her in precisely the right manner, and Stephen’s thoughts on Mum fell off.
She’d pinned her hair in some sort of updo with soft curls lying on her neck, and Stephen swallowed as memories of the nights he lay with her, holding her, the ends of her hair brushing against him, filled every crevice of his being.
Their eyes met and she smiled. “I’m afraid I’m overdressed.” She leaned toward Susanna. “I always thought Sunday night dinners were formal.”
She moved into the room with classic confidence, curtsying to Nathaniel, then Mum, and all the scattered reasons why Stephen loved her came flying together.
“Corina,” Susanna came round to her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think to tell you about the current dress code.” The king’s princess made a face. “I went Georgia-casual for family dinner night.”
“It’s quite all right.” Corina smoothed her hand over her skirt. “My misunderstanding gave me an excuse to buy a new dress.”
Mum caught Stephen’s attention. I like her.
As he knew she would. Stephen stepped around to her. “Good to see you.” He lightly kissed her cheek, and her fragrance pounded his heart. “I suppose I should formally introduce you.” Though she’d already owned the room, conquering any and all awkwardness.
“This is my mum, Queen Campbell, and her husband, Sir Henry.”
“How do you do?” Corina shook their hands and curtsyed again to Mum.
“My brother, King Nathaniel, and his wife, Princess Susanna.”
“Your Majesties.” Again, she curtsyed.
“Please, call us Nathaniel and Susanna,” Susanna said. “I’m still working on the HRH part of my name.” Then she tossed aside all protocol and snatched Corina in a “good ole girl” hug. “Another Georgia girl. I love it.” When she released Corina, Susanna brushed her fingers under her own eyes. Nathaniel slipped his arm about her and kissed the top of her head. Stephen’s green spark of jealousy flared. True love was the only thing he envied his king-brother. “I guess I’m a little homesick.”
“I understand.” Corina touched Susanna’s arm in Georgia-girl solidarity. In princess solidarity. “My first semester in postgrad here was horrible. I was so homesick. Even with my twin brother here.” The timbre in Corina’s voice layered peace into the room. Into Stephen. “I couldn’t wait for Christmas break.” She laughed softly. “Then when it arrived I begged Daddy and Mama to fly over here for Christmas. Cathedral City is so magical that time of year.”
“My first trip here was right after Christmas and I fell in love.” Susanna had found a like heart in Corina. Stephen watched it unfold on her face.
Careful, Susanna love, she’s not staying.
“I’m working on Nathaniel . . . talking him into a trip to Georgia next month.”
“I’m having my staff clear my diary,” Nathaniel said. “Corina, thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“And since we all know this business between Corina and Stephen, let’s just get it out there, shall we?”
What? He was going to ring his brother’s neck.
“Nathaniel.” Stephen stepped toward his brother. “I don’t think there’s any need . . .”
“It’s okay,” Corina raised her hand. “Might as well deal with the elephant in the room. We’re married. This may be my first and last dinner with the family.”
Steam. Coming out of his ears. What sort of rotten game was she playing? First and last dinner with the family. Trying to gain their sympathies? Make him come off as an ogre, never bringing her round to the family. As of this moment, he no longer believed her humble, innocent, what-happened-to-my-brother routine. She was out for vengeance.
“I was starting to think my youngest would never find the right girl.” Mum gave Stephen a teasing glance. “Seems he outfoxed us all. Save for this annulment business. Stephen I don’t understand.”
Yes, here it comes. He turned to Susanna. “Is dinner ready?”
“Malcolm will ring when it’s ready.” She gave him a look. Behave.
“I would like to say I’m sorry if all this marriage mess caused any of the family pain or embarrassment.” Corina cradled the small clutch she carried to her chest and peered at Stephen. “I know we broke the law of the day, but it just seemed . . . right.”
Oh, she was good. Very good.
“It’s quite all right, Corina,” Nathaniel said. “All is forgiven.”
“Except why are you two splitting apart?”
“Campbell, dear, that’s not the elephant in the room, it’s a whole herd of elephants.” Henry smiled at his wife. “Let the children figure it out for themselves.”
“I suppose you’re right.” But Mum gave Stephen the stink eye again and he knew he’d hear a good bit more before the week was out.
“Shall we address the other elephant in the room?” Susanna stepped forward, slipping her hands in her hip pockets. “It seems some of us are underdressed.” She did a visual with Mum and Nathaniel. “Shall we change?”
“Please, don’t change on my account,” Corina said, but Susanna was already halfway out of the room, with Mum on her heels, cheering her on.
“Splendid idea.” Mum turned back to Corina. “Begging your pardon, we shall return.”
“I’ll tell Malcolm to hold dinner fifteen minutes,” Nathaniel said. “Does that give everyone enough time?”
“Plenty,” Mum said. “Henry, are you coming?”
“Right behind you, love.”
But Stephen remained planted. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wear what I have on.”
Corina stepped toward him. “I had no idea it was casual night, so don’t look at me like I one-upped you or something.”
“You could’ve asked.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“What was with that business of your first and last time to have dinner with the family?”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re a piece of work. Nothing. Just a fact. Do you think I’ll ever be back here once our marriage is . . . over?” She lost a bit of her bravado, her voice breaking.
“Susanna likes you well enough.” He sighed, easing up on his suspicions and grinning at her. “Five minutes in the royal household, and you’ve turned us upside down.”
“Well, I am a Del Rey.”
Despite himself, he laughed. “For what it’s worth, you look beautiful.”
“I had fun shopping yesterday, visiting my favor
ite stores.”
“Susanna said the driver couldn’t find the inn.”
“He couldn’t. I had to walk out to the corner to meet him. There he was, waiting, squinting at the stores like nobody’s business, shaking his head. He jumped when I said hello.”
“I’ll have to check it out. Come by this mysterious place.”
She nodded, looking at him, then past him. “It’s a free country.”
“That it is.” Stephen glanced down at his attire. He should ease up, change, be a sport. “Tell you what, I’ll run to my apartment for my dinner clothes. I’m on the north side of the palace. I won’t be long. Tell Susanna to start without me.”
He dashed out, easy on his ankle, and slipped into the utility cart he used to cross the palace grounds, a little bit of a song, a little bit of a melody, skipping across his heart.
FIFTEEN
Here we are, miss.” Malcolm, the butler, passed Corina a red-and-white china cup and saucer, golden-brown tea brimming against a gold rim. “This china set was designed specifically for Her Majesty, Princess Susanna.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Corina perched on the edge of the couch. “May I ask, whose portrait is that over the fireplace?”
“Queen Anne-Marie as a young woman. She was a most beloved monarch.”
“I remember her from history. She stood for women’s right to vote in the mid-1800s.”
“An original suffragette.” Malcolm stood straight-backed beside the tea cart with his hands behind his back, gazing at the portrait. “The artist did her justice.”
Corina sipped her tea. She was used to opulent mansions and ornate rooms with damask curtains, but this was a royal room. Beautiful with textured walls, high, arching windows, and polished wood.
Yet the stack of newspapers on the floor by a reading chair, the iPad tucked into a chair cushion, and the wide-screen TV above the fireplace told the story of real people. Of a family. Of a home.