Cross Me

by Geneva Lee

  “Yes,” Edward said encouragingly. I dared to open my eyes. But where Edward’s face was blank, Clara’s eyes had widened.

  She knew. Somehow she knew. She didn’t speak and we both waited, frozen in horrified realization, until Edward coughed.

  “Is this some weird married thing I have to look forward to? Do you read each other’s minds now?”

  This time there was no laughter. Clara didn’t even crack a smile. Edward reached a hand out to her and she grabbed it like he’d offered her a life preserver.

  “Who is it, X?” she whispered. Edward had faded from the room. It was only her, waiting for me to say what we both already knew. A name. But not that of the stranger she’d expected.

  How had she figured it out?

  “She worked on the staff and then moved outside London to give birth. She’s lived there with her son—our brother—ever since. Her name is Rachel and her son’s name is—”

  But Clara stole the name from my lips. “Anderson Stone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CLARA

  Going to cry at my best friend’s house used to involve a smaller security detail. I’d taken Elizabeth with me, though. Even I had to admit that warranted more concern. Someday, my baby would take the crown her father wore. It was a heavy responsibility, not only protecting her now, but also figuring out how to give her as normal a life as possible. That was something Alexander had never had, which was why we were in this mess now.

  For the moment, I needed to sort through the mess in my brain, and I couldn’t do it alone. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell Belle. Somehow the truth seemed so strange I didn’t know where to begin.

  “We’ll be out here,” Norris assured me as I did my best to avoid the photographers that had arrived shortly after us and had set up camp across the street. They tailed us from Buckingham. I knew Norris had it under control, and I was grateful he was here. Alexander had insisted when I’d told him I wanted to see Belle this morning. I’d agreed, which was pretty much where our conversation had ended.

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t speaking to him, but rather that I was avoiding him. I’d listened to his rationale and half-hearted excuses when he’d told us the truth the night before. But none of it accounted for why he’d continued to keep the truth from me. I needed to clear my head and talk it through.

  Belle pried open the door and shooed me inside, flipping off the photographers for good measure.

  “They’re going to love that,” I said, shifting Elizabeth to my other hip and dropping my diaper bag in the foyer. It was getting harder to maneuver her with her little brother or sister growing so quickly.

  “One of us has to behave, and thankfully it’s not me.” She held out her hands, and I passed Elizabeth over. She grabbed Belle’s face and giggled in approval. Belle put on a sing-song voice that didn’t mesh with the women who’d just flipped the Vs at a dozen paparazzi. “Uncle Smith is ready for your play date.”

  “Smith is home?” I hadn’t expected that. Then again, I’d never been exactly clear on what he did.

  “He’s retired from law and become a proper gentleman,” she informed us, still cooing at Elizabeth.

  “Did I hear you call me a gentleman?” Smith asked distastefully as we entered the parlor. He was lying on the floor, surrounded by cushions. He pushed up from the ground, displaying impressive biceps that strained against his t-shirt. So that was what Belle saw in him.

  “In all the ways that count to anyone but your wife,” she told him reassuringly.

  “Good. Don’t sully my reputation.” He gave her—what seemed to me—a rather chaste kiss on the cheek. Belle held out Elizabeth and he hesitated, turning to me. “May I? Belle said you two needed to talk.”

  “Of course.” I swallowed back my anxiety. There had always been a dangerous edge to Smith Price, but if Belle had chosen him, I trusted him.

  Elizabeth studied her new handler before smacking him on the nose.

  “Lizzie!” I said, unsure whether there was a point to reprimanding her at this age, but feeling compelled to do so. Smith only laughed.

  Looking around, I realized that he’d arranged a cluster of pillows into a makeshift baby fortress. He waved us off. “Go talk. I’ll call up if I need you.”

  “Is he going to be okay with her?” I asked, my nerves showing themselves.

  “He’s been dying to practice since we found out we’re expecting. It’s adorable, really,” she whispered as we headed up the stairs. Her eyes moved wistfully toward the first floor, but she shook herself as if clearing cobwebs from her brain. “Office or bedroom?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I just needed to talk. I didn’t need a prime location.

  She surveyed me for a moment. “Bedroom. I think the office will stress you out.”

  The bedroom, as it turned out, was the least stressful place on the planet. Belle had decorated in cool shades of white and pale wood tones that practically glowed in the light of late morning. It felt like stepping into a luxury spa, but I really didn’t feel relaxed until I joined her on the bed.

  “Is this an actual cloud?” I asked, sinking into the layers of fluffy down. I felt like I was in heaven.

  “This is my sanctuary,” she confessed. “I’m totally at peace here.”

  I could see why. “I’m not sure Alexander would go in for this. Our bedroom isn’t very…peaceful.”

  “I used to share a wall with you. I know,” she reminded me. “Believe me, I don’t mean peaceful in that way, either, although I do find sex very relaxing.”

  I raised an eyebrow. We clearly had very different taste in men. There was nothing relaxing about being with Alexander. He was a force of nature in the bedroom, and I wouldn’t have it any other way—even when I was angry with him.

  “Spill,” Belle ordered, and I realized I’d been silent for far too long.

  “Alexander has a secret brother,” I blurted out. I’d been trying to think of the most delicate, mature way to tell her so that she would understand why this was a secret. I had clearly failed to deliver on that goal.

  “A what?” she repeated. “Did you say secret brother?”

  “Christ, it sounds even more clandestine coming from you,” I said, rubbing my temples as a sudden headache began to form. “Yes, he found out a few weeks ago that his dad had a son with someone after Elizabeta died. Basically, he paid for the woman to go away.”

  I was oversimplifying the situation. Now that I knew the truth, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the real reason Rachel Stone had wanted me to leave Silverstone. Was she worried I would discover her secret? She knew Anders was Alexander’s brother—but did he?

  “When did he tell you?” Belle asked shrewdly, twisting a blonde lock around her finger as she considered my story. She may have pushed me toward Alexander in the beginning, but she’d had her reservations about our relationship ever since.

  “Right away,” I said, “kinda.”

  She gave me a that’s-what-I-thought look.

  “He told me about the brother, but he didn’t have a name at the time.”

  “And when he did?”

  “Belle, it’s Anderson Stone.”

  Her mouth fell open. She didn’t even try to shut it.

  “Surprise,” I add weakly.

  “Anderson Stone is Alexander’s illegitimate brother?” She seemed to be having trouble processing this information. “And you didn’t know?”

  “Not until yesterday,” I grumbled.

  That was what was eating away at me. The whole time, Alexander had known Anders was his brother. He’d admitted as much. Instead of telling me, he’d allowed me to go and make friends with him. I couldn’t figure out why.

  “I don’t understand it,” I confessed to Belle. “Why wouldn’t Alexander have told me as soon as he found out that I’d met him?”

  For once, she wasn’t spitting with rage over his actions. Instead, she pursed her lips. “Does Anders know?”

  “Not y
et.”

  “So if you had known, you would have had to keep that secret from Anders or decide to tell him that he was dumped as a baby by the Royal family,” she pointed out.

  A lightbulb went off in my head, care of Belle’s astute observation. “Oh.”

  “You know I’m not always Alexander’s biggest fan, but I think he did it for you. I mean, what would you have done if you’d known?”

  Acted strangely? Pretended not to know? No, there would have been only one course of action. “I would have handed the games over to someone else.”

  “There you have it. I think he was actually trying to do something right,” she said softly. “It pains me to admit it.”

  “He’s not that bad.”

  “Really? So you aren’t angry at him?”

  “Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m pissed. He should have told me.”

  “In his own incredibly twisted way, I think he was doing it for you.” She tucked her legs under her chin and sighed. “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do?” That was my problem. I didn’t know how to react.

  “Will you leave him?” she asked bluntly.

  “No!” My mouth hung open even considering her question.

  “I figured that was only a hypothetical question,” she said dryly. “But I had to ask.”

  “Why? I mean, it’s a big deal, but it’s not really leave-your-husband material.”

  “You left him before,” she reminded me gently.

  “Look how that turned out.” The memory tumbled in my mind, and my stomach lurched. I covered my mouth to be on the safe side. Just the thought of leaving him—truly leaving him forever—made me sick.

  “Clara, you’re okay.” Belle wrapped an arm around me and I dropped my head to her shoulder. “I was just trying to make a point that this time it’s different, right?”

  “I left the first time because I thought he didn’t want me or the baby. I thought he didn’t love me,” I said, working through the painful memories. “He pushed me away then, but this time he’s trying to keep me close—maybe a little too close.”

  “Oh, he’s an overbearing arse,” Belle confirmed and I couldn’t help but laugh at her matter-of-fact tone. “But he never stopped loving you. It’s hard to love a stubborn man. Believe me, I know.”

  “Is Smith bad?”

  “He makes Alexander look like a wallflower.”

  “How do you do it?” If that was true—and I doubted it—she made it look easy, somehow.

  “I don’t let him get away with it. When he pulls that alpha male crap, I remind him I’m in charge,” she teased, dropping her voice to add, “Except in the bedroom. I don’t mind being at his mercy there.”

  “Ms. Price,” I said, pretending to be shocked. In truth, I was a bit.

  “Don’t act like I’ve offended you. Every girl needs to be tied up once in a while. It reduces stress. Less stress equals less wrinkles. It’s good for the skin.”

  “How scientific.” Giggles spilled from me and I drew away to eye her carefully. She did look incredible. I’d thought it was all pregnancy glow. “So that’s your new skincare regime?”

  “Oh, love,” she said, winking at me. “Submission is the new Botox.”

  We laughed for a minute before my thoughts drifted back to my own husband. He was trying, which had to count for something. That didn’t mean I was going to go easy on him.

  “You’re going to get through this,” Belle murmured, sensing the shift in my mood.

  “I just need time, and”—I patted my stomach—“I have other things to worry about.”

  “Have you been feeling any better?” she asked sympathetically.

  “Much better. I think hitting the halfway point helped.”

  “Twenty weeks already? No wonder you’re showing so much more than me.” She frowned as she studied her flat stomach. “I’m only ten weeks.”

  “You’ll be big as a house soon,” I promised her. Twenty weeks meant I was due to see Dr. Ball. I hadn’t really thought about it since I’d gotten back from Silverstone.

  “Hey.” Belle smacked me on the shoulder. “You disappeared again.”

  “Sorry. I’m due for a scan, and I guess that means I’ll be making up with Alexander sooner rather than later.” There was no way I could face that alone.

  “I’ll go,” she offered. “Smith can drive us. Your entourage can follow. Just give me the details.”

  I hesitated, wondering if I needed more time away from Alexander, or if I was just punishing him. In the end, it didn’t matter. “It’s on Wednesday.”

  * * *

  I was getting nowhere with Brex.

  “You don’t need to come. I want Georgia there.” I planted my hands on my hips and wondered how to get through to him. He wanted to send half an army to the doctor with me this afternoon. I hadn’t told him I was having an ultrasound, because I didn’t want it to get back to Alexander. As far as anyone needed to know, I was going to a routine exam.

  “I need to run it by Norris.”

  I was getting somewhere, but that was the last thing I wanted. “I’ll tell him.”

  Brexton tilted his head to the side, his lips flattening.

  “I will,” I promised.

  “I should come,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You don’t want to come. It’s going to be Vagina City.”

  “Now I definitely want to come.” He smirked and glanced toward Georgia, who had stayed out of the argument.

  She raised her hands. “It’s up to you.”

  “Talk to Norris,” Brex said firmly.

  “I will.” Norris could be reasoned with. He’d been there when Alexander had revealed the truth about Anders, so he would understand why I needed some space now.

  Georgia followed me as I went to look for him, making tiny impatient noises. Finally, I spun on her. “Spit it out.”

  “Why do you want me there?” she asked coolly. “I’m not exactly the type to hold your hand.”

  “Because I’m going with Belle, and Smith is driving. I’d rather that not get back to my husband.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “I don’t have to tell Alexander everything,” I said.

  “Not if you want to punish him,” she said softly.

  I stared at her, realizing what should have been obvious. “You knew. That’s why you warned me about Anders.”

  “Professional courtesy,” she said with a shrug.

  “Did everyone know before I did?” I exploded. The revelation solidified my choice to do this without my husband. I stalked off to find Norris.

  He was in the kitchen, having a cup of tea, and he looked up, his face remaining blank, as I stormed into the room. A few cooks paused to curtsy, but I waved them back to their work.

  “I have a doctor’s appointment. Georgia is taking me,” I announced.

  “Alexander will want to—”

  “No,” I stopped him, painfully aware that this was how palace gossip got started, but somehow not giving a fuck. “I just want to have a normal, stress-free exam. Alexander’s busy anyway.”

  “He is never too busy for you,” Norris said gently.

  I snorted. If only that were the case. “I’ll fill him in later.”

  “Clara, he would want to know.”

  “Really? Maybe he should get a taste of what it feels like to be kept in the dark.” I left before Norris could try to reason further with me. I wanted my husband there, but he needed a less-than-subtle reminder that he’d screwed up.

  “Punishing him it is,” Georgia muttered as she followed me to the garage.

  I ignored her.

  * * *

  The perk of letting Smith drive was that no one bothered to follow us when we exited Buckingham, which meant, for once, there wouldn’t be a write-up of my day posted on every tabloid site in the world. We passed a bunch of bored-looking photographers lingering outside the gates, and I shrank into the seat.

  “D
on’t worry,” Belle said, pointing to the heavily tinted windows. “They can’t see you.”

  “Not that they’d miss this car,” Georgia said dryly from her passenger seat.

  “What’s wrong with my car?” Smith demanded.

  “It’s not exactly subtle.”

  It wasn’t. Belle had warned me that Smith had finally won out and gotten a family car. I’d expected a classic Range Rover or a terrible estate car, but I’d been surprised to find a shiny Mercedes monster waiting for me on the grounds.

  “I told him: only dictators and pop stars drove G-wagons,” Belle whispered, “but he insisted.”

  It was nice, if a little glossy for my taste. She continued to tell me about its safety features and various amenities, but my mind was elsewhere. In particular, it was on the phone that kept buzzing in my purse. The third time it rang, Belle groaned.

  “I better get that before he calls in SIS,” I said flatly, annoyed that Norris hadn’t kept his mouth shut. But when I pulled my phone from my bag, it wasn’t Alexander. I flashed the screen at Belle.

  “Brace yourself,” she warned me as I answered.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said.

  “I have been calling you all morning.” My mother’s voice was so shrill I held the phone away from my ear, and Georgia twisted in the front street, startled by the noise.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “What if there had been an emergency? I could have been dying.” Somewhere in the last few years, my mother had shifted from pressuring me about my future to obsessively reminding me how little time she had left on the planet. I suspected this was said to encourage me to answer the next time she called. The guilt trip continually backfired, though, since I tended to ignore her calls as long as possible.

  “I’m sorry,” I said dutifully.

  “I called to ask about your appointment. You haven’t been keeping me up-to-date.”

  “I’ve been preoccupied with the Games.” Among other things she didn’t need to know about. “And I’m on my way to the doctor now, so nothing to report.”

  “Is Alexander with you? Maybe he’ll remember to give me an update.” My mother had taken to fawning over my husband and appealing to his sympathy whenever possible. Christmas had been full of special moments like this.