Cross Me

by Geneva Lee

  “Are you okay?” Anderson said. I looked down to see his eyes were now on me, his arms still holding Elizabeth in mid-air flight.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.” It wasn’t a lie. I was tired, but sleep wasn’t going to do me any good. My heart was tired.

  “You know, I think they could do without you for a few hours. Maybe you should go take a nap. I’m sure there’s enough of us to look after her.”

  “You want me to leave my baby with a bunch of racecar drivers?” I was more likely to abandon her to a pack of wolves.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “We can take her around the track a few times.”

  I reached down and plucked her out of his arms. “I don’t think her daddy would like that.”

  “Daddy isn’t here,” he teased.

  It was an innocent remark, but I flinched. The smirk on his face disappeared as he realized what he’d said.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry.” He sat up, running his hand through his hair. He paused at the back of his neck, massaging an invisible spot. The movement triggered another wave of guilt in me. He was trying to be nice and I was being crazy.

  Elizabeth screeched at being taken away from her new friend. She screwed up her face, her hands balling into tiny fists. “I think we could both use a nap.”

  “We can manage here.”

  “Thanks.” I meant it. Meanwhile, my daughter was throwing her body toward Anderson. “I think she likes you.”

  “She just misses her daddy,” he said. He pushed onto his feet. He stood and patted the top of her head. “Take a nap and maybe mum will let you go around the track later.”

  Elizabeth gurgled her approval for this plan.

  “Maybe she will,” I cooed, “in forty or fifty years.”

  I helped Elizabeth wave goodbye to Anderson and turned to find Brex. A little quiet time seemed like a very good idea. The next few days would be long ones, and right now my heart was heavy.

  Instead of Brex, I found Georgia. She was sitting cross-legged on the desk watching me. Her eyes traveled to Anderson, then retreated back to me.

  I forced a smile onto my face and made my way over. “Where’s Brex?”

  “He’s overseeing the crowd control plan,” she said.

  “Oh.” That put a stop to my plans.

  “Is there something you need?” she asked.

  “I thought I’d take Elizabeth back to the house. I can wait.”

  She hopped down with enviable grace. “I’ll see to it.”

  She took a few steps toward the door and I breathed a sigh of relief. If Georgia was going to pretend nothing had happened, then I was feeling guilty for nothing. Alexander wasn’t here and that was screwing with my head.

  Before she’d cleared the office door, she stopped and turned to me. “Word of advice? Tread carefully.”

  I didn’t insult her by asking what she meant. I simply watched her go. Maybe I had something to feel guilty about after all.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ALEXANDER

  I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “How is she?”

  It had been less than three days since Clara had left for Silverstone. I’d been in meetings every waking moment, but nothing could distract me for long. My wife and daughter’s absence left me feeling disjointed, as though the most important parts of me had simply left. They were my heart—my conscience—and without them, nothing seemed to make sense here.

  “She’s fine,” Brex said. He launched into a report about her daily activities over the last few days. I’d made him wait to make this call. I needed to break some of my bad habits. Clara wanted independence. I couldn’t pull back on her security team, especially with Elizabeth there, but I could give her space the only way I had available to me. It was a small gesture toward her wishes—and she wasn’t even aware of it.

  “Do you want me to call back in a few days?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you call me tomorrow?” So much for giving her more freedom. In fact, I was going crazy. I’d tried to go cold turkey and it had been too much—too fast. I was addicted to her. I was only half a man without her by my side, and an even worse king. Let Brex think what he would about me. I didn’t care.

  “I will,” he vowed, “but everything is good here, Alexander. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?” I asked him. Technically, the security briefing should cover more than my family. The opening ceremonies were scheduled for tomorrow and the first racing event for a few days later. They were tying up loose ends, and although I’d chosen not to be there—as a sign of faith to Clara—it was still my responsibility.

  “We’ve got this covered. You worry about Parliament,” he told me.

  We were supposed to be presenting a united front. Clara was capable of representing our family. My responsibilities rested with Parliament’s investigation into the handling of Jacobson’s case. If we were going to come out on the other side of these challenges, we would have to work together. I told myself that we were strong. We were undivided. But the truth was, I felt torn in half.

  “Humor me,” I said.

  “There have been very few security incidents. A few people trying to sneak in their own booze in backpacks is about the worst of it. A reporter tried to scale a fence. He broke his camera, so I think he learned his lesson.” Even over the phone I could hear Brex’s amusement. He probably questioned why he was there. There were more pressing issues to deal with, certainly, but he would never question me outright. He knew that wherever my wife was, my mind was.

  “And Anderson?” It was hard to ask about my brother. It felt strange and somehow more clandestine than checking in on my wife.

  There was a pause. It wasn’t like Brex to hesitate.

  “What is it?” I asked. I knew him well enough to know when he was weighing his response. He’d been trained by the military to make snap decisions without thinking, reacting instantly in life or death situations. It was what made him an asset to the team. When he didn’t have a quick response, it meant something.

  “He seems like a nice kid,” Brex said noncommittally.

  “And?” I pressed. There was more to this. I could sense it.

  “He’s thoughtful. He seems particularly considerate of Clara.”

  Meaning was laced through his words, and I found my hand closing sharply over a pencil. It snapped in half.

  My attention had been divided and now the last person who should have been allowed to had gotten close to my wife. Was this a part of Jacobson’s plan? He’d said my family would turn against me. But he couldn’t know about Anderson. That secret had been well kept. It had taken the CIA to uncover it. How would an MP from the House of Commons discover it?

  “He is?” I did my best to sound casual, but it came out strangled.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Brex said quickly—too quickly.

  “How considerate is he?” I asked.

  “He checks in on her. They talk. He helped her with Elizabeth today.”

  “He helped her with Elizabeth today?” I repeated, certain I must have heard him wrong.

  “The nanny was sick. We all helped.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better. I should have sent Norris instead of asking him to clean up another of my father’s messes while everyone was away. It had been a calculated error, but an error all the same.

  “And Clara accepted his help?” I asked in a strangled voice.

  “She doesn’t realize,” Brex said quietly. “She doesn’t see it. Alexander, her heart belongs to you. He’s just a kid.”

  It didn’t matter. He was there, and I was here. He was looking after her, and I wasn’t. He had the life I could never have—freedom I had never experienced—and this was how he—how they—repaid me?

  “I’m keeping an eye on the situation,” Brex assured me.

  “Let me know if anything happens.” I resisted the urge to tell him to stay with her at all times. Clara would notice
if he was suddenly clingier. She would ask him why he was suddenly concerned. He could lie to her. Tell her there had been a security threat. But that wouldn’t solve my problem and would put undue stress on her while she was pregnant.

  I had kept this from her, kept the truth from her, and I was being punished for my sins. Anderson Stone had the life I would never have—and now he was coveting the one thing that belonged to me, the thing that mattered. The one and only thing I would never give him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CLARA

  I’d been asked to do strange things since I’d become a Royal, but this was the strangest yet. I stared at the red silk scarf that Henry had handed me a few moments ago. “What am I supposed to do with this, exactly?”

  “Have you ever seen a joust reenactment?” he asked.

  “In a movie.” I couldn’t see what it had to do with racing. I turned it over in my hand, looking for a clue.

  “At past games, a royal would grant his favor to certain competitors. It was Albert’s idea—a nod to jousting.”

  “So, if Alexander were hosting, he’d be giving Anders the scarf?” I would pay to see that. It would be a touching moment: Alexander acting superior, and Anders glaring at him.

  “I believe the honor would still fall to you,” Henry said dryly. “My mother performed the duty for years.”

  “Another reason for your mother to hate me.” I’d fantasized the games might win her over, but I’d been wrong. Instead of becoming her champion and swaying Alexander to hold the event, I’d become her replacement.

  “My mother doesn’t…” Henry paused as though he thought better of lying and switched tactics. “It is the Queen’s favor—a tradition—and you are the queen.”

  “It’s medieval,” I muttered. I was accustomed to being in front of people—I lived my life in front of the world now. But this was different than giving a speech or presenting an award. Something felt too personal. After my talk with Georgia, it felt like sending Anders mixed signals, something I definitely didn’t want to do. I couldn’t imagine what Alexander would think if he watched the opening ceremonies. I hoped he remembered the tradition better than I did.

  “Does it have to be Anders?” A different racer would be a better—safer—choice.

  “He is the favorite and I think the press will eat it up,” Henry said.

  “The press will eat me up.” It had been one thing for Mary, the Queen Mother, to perform the ritual. I suspected my participation might be viewed in an entirely different light. I wrapped the scarf around my wrist and sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I focused on the fact that tonight the stands would be full of children. That’s why we were doing this. Watching the Queen gift a token to the local hero was going to have a huge impact on them. That’s what this was about. The ticket sales and sponsorships we received would go to local schools and health initiatives. At each city we visited over the course of the next three months, kids would have a chance to see their heroes in action. They’d see the men and women they looked up to giving back to their communities. I hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye with Albert, but it was a beautiful legacy to leave.

  “I thought Alexander might join us,” Henry said under his breath as we made our way toward the side of the track for the scarf presentation.

  The night was cold and I was glad Edward had insisted I bring along a wool dress coat for warmth and camouflage. I hadn’t thought I would need many dressy clothes, but I’d been expected to look the part of the proper English queen this evening. Under the neatly tailored navy coat I had on a boring house dress that wouldn’t be winning me any style points.

  “I wish he could,” I said. I was angry with my husband, but I was beginning to miss him. Being in love had a way of undermining a girl’s resistance.

  Henry nodded thoughtfully, tucking his Burberry scarf tightly under his collar to ward off the evening wind. “He must have been held up in London. I know he missed the last games while he was away.”

  “He wanted to come,” I lied. It felt like I was doing that more and more often for him, making excuses for his absence. Being away at war was a good reason for missing last time, this time he was simply avoiding it. “He couldn’t be away.”

  “It was a lovely gesture to do this on his birthday. I’m sure that will make it easier for him.”

  My stomach twisted into a knot, but I smiled quickly. It was supposed to be a nice gesture. Alexander had ruined it. I hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t come, especially when I’d given him the dates. He had looked at them and said nothing.

  “It feels like we’re bridging the old and the new,” I said.

  “Yes, it does,” Henry said. “Alexander’s birthday to start and my brother’s birthday to end the ceremonies.”

  That’s what I thought. It was carefully planned. I’d suggested the idea when we’d first looked at the schedule. Originally, Mary had wanted to start the games in March. I’d argued it would be a signal of our family’s unity to begin on Alexander’s birthday, February 26, and end on Albert’s, the 25th of May.

  “Will your mother be arriving soon?” Mary had been suspiciously absent the past week, which I assumed was an effort to avoid me. In London, she’d come to every meeting. She’d shown no qualms about making her opinion known.

  Henry shook his head, dropping his voice to keep his words between us. “The doctor doesn’t think this atmosphere would be good for her heart and the travel isn’t ideal. I’m glad she’s back in London where specialists are available. She’s always more interested in the horses anyway. She wishes you all the best, though.”

  One of those statements was a lie, but it did no good to call him out on it. Henry was trying to be pleasant, which was more than his mother had ever done for me. “At least the equestrian events take place closer to London. So, do I give this to Anders as soon as I see him?”

  The closer we came to the actual event, the more nervous I became. I didn’t want to admit it, but I wanted to impress those watching. For every person who had accepted and blessed me as their Queen, it felt like there were two who saw me as some kind of Royal Yoko Ono.

  “Not quite. Your part comes after the ceremonial lap,” Henry explained. “It signifies that we come here in the spirit of brotherhood.”

  “And tomorrow we come in the spirit of kicking each other’s asses?” I clapped my hand over my mouth, horrified I’d let that slip. I backtracked quickly. “Sorry. The philosophy behind competitive sports has always eluded me.”

  “You really are a breath of fresh air.” He waved off my apology with a smile. “Most of my family acts like they have a scepter stuck up their arse.”

  “Including Alexander?”

  “You can’t blame a king for being on edge,” Henry said wisely, “especially given how young he is. I do wish you two would have had more time before you had to tackle this responsibility.”

  That made two of us. But there was no use in wishing. I could only focus on what we did have—a lifetime together. That was all Alexander had ever promised me, and all I could ever want.

  Engines roared in response to a marker, and the lap started. The cars zoomed around the track at breakneck speed. It might have been thrilling if my mind wasn’t elsewhere. This was what I wanted—what I’d worked for—but part of me wished I was back in London. It was the part of me that had known Alexander wouldn’t come.

  “They’re ready for us.” Henry called my attention back to the present. The drivers had returned. Most had climbed out of their cars, depositing their helmets in their seats and were making their way toward us. They slapped each other on the back, laughed, waved—they were having so much fun.

  The stands were entirely full, roars of applause deafened me as I stepped onto the track. Anders reached us, his hair mussed from his helmet, wearing a white track suit emblazoned with a bunch of sponsors. He looked like a walking advertisement. He seemed to know that because a goofy grin had replaced his usual smirk. We m
ade our way over to him and I realized he looked a little shaky. I placed a hand over the mic pinned to my coat. It would be turning on any moment.

  “Are you shy?” I asked. Maybe putting him in the spotlight had been the wrong call.

  “Not if I can help it,” he said a bit too smoothly to be believed. His hands were trembling.

  Still, there was no mistaking the boyish gleam in his eyes. I wondered what it must be like for him to be here, fulfilling his dream. I had never wanted fame nor fortune. I’d stumbled into this life by accident. He’d worked for this. A lump formed in my throat, a strangely maternal pride coming over me. I really was pregnant. Everything seemed to be sending me into mom mode. I’d probably cry during every race, too.

  Next to me, Anders gave me a searching look, his hand landing lightly on my arm. I gave him a reassuring smile. Later, when I wasn’t wearing a microphone, I would confess that my hormones were getting the better of me and turning me into a blubbering mother hen.

  The ceremony went off without a hitch, even if I felt a bit silly tossing him my scarf. He caught it easily and tied it around his arm. Camera flashes went off all around us as we waved obligingly. At least I only had to do this bit once.

  “Are you hungry?” Anders asked as we all made our way to the paddock. “Some of the guys are going out for a bite. We thought we could show you a good time. I mean, not too good of a time.” He gestured to the bump visible under my coat. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “I think I already got myself in trouble.” I laughed as I patted the proof. “That’s really sweet, but…”

  “But she has other plans,” a rough voice broke in.

  My heart leapt, already knowing what I would find when I turned. Alexander was dressed down in a pitiful attempt to blend in, but there was no mistaking him. Even in a worn, leather jacket, hands shoved in his jeans, he was a king. My body responded to his presence, drawing me toward him. I locked my knees in place and tried to think. But I didn’t have to concentrate for long. Alexander wasn’t looking at me. His burning gaze was directed at Anders. X took a step around me and held out a hand. It was a friendly gesture, but his shoulders were rigid. He had his guard up. If Anders noticed, he didn’t show it. He took the outstretched hand and shook it as Alexander moved so that his body was between me and Anders. It was a subtle marking of his territory, but one I wasn’t going to ignore.