My father was a handsome man. I’d always known it but to see him just a few years younger than I was now really illustrated how much of a good-looking man he’d always been.
“Hello, Daddy,” I whispered as I got closer. It was funny, really. I was talking to the picture like Dad was dead or something, when really, I’d just read an email from him yesterday.
I spent the next two hours just walking the halls, looking at the works of arts and priceless knickknacks I was terrified to touch. The place was definitely creepy, but it was also soothing. Every surface gleamed and the scent of beeswax and lemon polish filled every room.
Having traveled so much as a child, I realized this was just about the only place that I might be able to call home.
When my stomach growled, I set about trying to find the kitchen. It wasn’t yet six, but I was suddenly starving, and I thought I might be able to save one of the employees — I detested calling them servants — a trip to my room.
The staff seemed startled by my appearance and the talking all stopped at once. When I offered to carry my meal, they looked as scandalized as Nigel had been, and Daria, the evening cook, said that she’d have it sent up immediately.
I didn’t argue, because suddenly, the smells seemed to be getting to me. My stomach roiled, so I smiled and made a hasty retreat.
A few minutes later, it had settled, and I felt better by the time my food arrived. I was famished again and tucked into the meal as if I hadn’t eaten in weeks.
As I ate, I watched the local news station, pretending that I wasn’t hoping for some glimpse of Sebastianos on the screen in his full glory. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the day’s news cycle, and I had to hear more about the Amurian threats and how much the king wanted his people to keep living their lives.
“Our military is well trained, and our police force is working diligently to keep everyone safe,” King Demetrius said, looking confidently at the camera. “There’s no need to worry at this time. We’ll disseminate any credible threats to the public if they’re discovered.”
When I was done with the meal, I carried the plates back downstairs, and was met by the same shocked expression as someone hurried to take my tray.
“Thank you all. The food was wonderful.” I eyed the fridge, wondering if I was free to just open it up and find something to drink.
“Can I get you something else?” Daria asked.
“Um, do you have ginger ale or Sprite?” I pressed my hand to my stomach, which was starting to feel upset again.
Her eyes widened. “Are you ill?”
I dropped my hand. “Oh no. Just thirsty. But if it’s too much trouble…” I trailed off because the woman was already bustling toward the cooler.
Was this one of the reasons my father had felt so oppressed and needed to “spread his wings?” Because he couldn’t just grab a soda anytime he wanted? Couldn’t just eat when his stomach told him he was hungry? Because he had to sit up straight and hold his pinky out just right? Wipe his mouth just so and make pleasant small talk until he nearly threw up?
If so, I totally got why he baled on this place so long ago.
Ginger ale in hand, I thanked Daria and slipped outside, sipping the cool drink while I walked along the gardens. It was truly beautiful. And lonely. Even so, I stayed outside until the sun began to set, turning the sky a rainbow of glorious hues.
Bummed that I hadn’t brought down my camera or even my phone, I just committed the beauty to my memory before finding my way back to my room and turning the water on for a long, hot bath.
Picking up my phone, I noticed two missed messages.
The first was from Marta. Take the rest of the week and weekend off, Iliana. We heard your hand had to be glued closed! We shall see you on Monday and not a moment before.
I wanted to argue but I had to admit, I was very tired and it would be nice to have a few days off to recoup from my minor injuries and my major shock at seeing Seb again.
Besides, Jenn would be here this weekend, so the time off would be a blessing.
The second message was marked as private. Feeling okay?
I frowned, contemplating how to respond before typing a message. Who is this?
The reply came pretty quickly. Why, the Duke of Becktonas. Who else?
My hand went over my mouth, and I tried to breathe. Smiling, I typed, ignoring the little stings on my hand as I did so. How on earth did you get my number, Your Grace?
Before I could second-guess myself, I added a little llama face emoji on the end of the message and tapped send.
I held my breath as I waited for his reply. It came in less than a minute. I can find anything I want if I put my mind to it. Also, it’s on your internship application, so there’s that.
I laughed out loud. I’m feeling better, thank you. Thank you also for today. I was a bit of a mess.
There was no reply right away, so I figured he’d gotten busy. For something to do, I pulled open the drawer that contained an assortment of bath salts and selected one of my mother’s favorite scents, lily of the valley.
When my phone chirped again, I nearly dropped the little container into the water.
His message made my heart beat faster. You’re adorable when you’re a mess.
He was flirting with me? The Duke of Becktonas… no, the Duke of Debauchery… was flirting with me.
I typed and erased a reply at least four times before settling on, Thank you.
So lame.
He didn’t respond after that, so I slipped into the tub, hissing when the hot water hit the cut on my knee and being careful to keep my hand from getting wet.
Then I closed my eyes.
The Duke of Debauchery.
As much as I wanted to claim otherwise, I’d probably let him debauchery me again in an instant
CHAPTER TEN
Sebastianos
Penelope was absolutely giddy.
She’d somehow managed to convince the king to allow her and her entourage to go shopping at the Galleria, a large open-air conglomerate of shops that put my teeth on edge. Not only because I detested shopping — part of the beauty of being in the military meant I never had to think about my wardrobe — but going anywhere in the public was a logistics nightmare, and this little excursion meant that at least nine undercover guards and myself were now shopping right along with her and Mrs. Kent.
I’d tried to reign in Penelope as gently as I could while she was planning the outing to get a few things for the upcoming summer festival and Legacy Ball. But the little princess had her father wrapped around her little finger, and before I knew it, we had a full cadre assigned to all sorts of ridiculous places in the shopping center, and I was trailing behind the crown princess and her nanny as they bounced from store to store. Because, yes, the little minx had begged me to come.
One day, I’d have to learn to say no.
So, here we were, shopping. Not that she’d be allowed to wear anything off the racks at the upcoming events. But girls would be girls, whether six, sixteen, or sixty, I supposed.
Shop. Shop. Repeat.
Every few minutes I’d hear one of the guards get a status update and struggle to maintain my composure.
“This is Echo Nine from the pretzel stand, nothing to report.”
“Echo Ten from the movie theater, nothing to report.”
It was pretty ridiculous, but after the first half hour, I started to lighten up a bit. I was on edge. Not because of security or even the media attention I was now getting. I was on edge because of a different little minx, an American one, who’d stumbled back into my life.
Even though I’d known for a fact that Iliana wouldn’t be returning to the palace until Monday because of her injury, it didn’t stop me from looking up each time I heard the clicking of heels. And it didn’t stop my heart from beating a bit faster every time I caught sight of chestnut hair.
My damn schedule — and damn pride — had kept me from seeking her out, which I’d been tempted to do.
I’d also been tempted to blow up her phone with messages, but I’d somehow refrained from doing that after my last You’re adorable when you’re a mess message.
Fuck.
I hated to admit that I thought about her from time to time — if time to time meant nearly constantly —and I was getting more annoyed with the fact by the hour. I was in a foul mood as I watched Penelope beg her nanny to ride the carousel while all the guards conferred to determine if the princess would meet her death on a freaking ceramic pony.
What I wanted to do was haul the little girl up and plant her tiny behind on the horse of her choosing and let her go around and around in circles until she threw up.
What kind of life was this for a child?
It was the biggest reason I didn’t want to get married, didn’t want to have a family. Aside from the fact I couldn’t imagine listening to the same female harping at me for fifty years, I didn’t want to drag anyone into… this.
“Please, Sebby. Can I ride? Please?”
I looked down to find Penelope in front of me, unshed tears making her big blue eyes sparkle. I hadn’t paid attention to the should we or shouldn’t we conversation going around me, but one look at the guards told me they didn’t think it was a good idea.
Well, fuck them.
“Sure. I’ll ride with you.”
Annoyance was mixed with relief as I took over the situation. Although I was officially under royal protection myself due to my station, the guards knew I could handle myself.
Penelope leaped at me, catching me around the legs, and I hauled her up into a hug, then immediately regretted it when the flashes of cameras went off. I couldn’t even show affection to my young cousin without it becoming an international incident.
Trying to ignore the media and gawking fans circling the carousel, I rode next to Penelope, my long legs dragging the floor each time my horse sank down, making Pen giggle.
I loved to hear the little girl giggle. With the weight of an entire country on her small shoulders, she needed these moments to just be a child.
When she finally declared that she’d had enough, we climbed off, ignoring the additional flashing cameras and the people who wanted pieces of us. As was custom, we smiled and waved, shook some hands, but when I met the head guard’s eye, we were spirited away to another part of the mall, although the crowd continued to trail behind us.
“I like this one,” Penelope said, fingering a pink and purple bow that looked way too big for her head. She looked up at me, stroking the silky strands. “Can I have it?”
“Of course.”
I thought the shop owner would faint as we rang up the bow, and as we left the store, two mothers got into a fight, both vying for the last one on the rack.
Utterly ridiculous.
“Seb! Hey, Seb!”
The very fact that I was being called by my nickname caused me to pause.
Frowning, I turned to follow the voice and nearly laughed aloud, which I managed not to do since I didn’t want any additional attention focused on me.
It was Iliana’s outspoken friend, Jenn. Even if I didn’t recognize the dark-haired beauty, I’d know who she was because she was holding on to a very red-faced Iliana.
“Need us to intercede, Your Grace?”
Damn.
“Americans,” I said, as though it explained everything. It seemed to work because he gave a sympathetic eye roll. Then, because I knew he’d follow me if I didn’t make him stay put, I ordered him to, “Protect the princess. I’ll only be a moment.”
The guard looked as if he was about to argue, but a lift of my brow shut him up quick enough. I could kick his ass, and he knew it.
Forcing myself not to rush to where the two women stood, I was ridiculously happy to be approaching the pair.
“Hello,” Jenn beamed when I reached them.
“Hello, yourselves,” I said, ignoring the stares of onlookers, but mentally groaning as the smartphones were whipped out. I forced myself to look respectable, and not nearly as pleased as I truly was. “What brings you to Cassia, Jenn?”
She squeezed Iliana closer to her. “My bestie, of course. I wanted to make sure she was all settled and staying out of trouble.”
Allowing myself a small smile at that, I nodded. “You’re several days too late for that.” I looked down at Iliana’s hand, wishing I could reach for it and inspect the healing wound. “How are you feeling?” I asked her instead, tucking my own hands behind my back in a military stance I found comforting.
She showed me her palm, which was no longer bandaged, the wound having closed nicely.
Jenn wrinkled her nose. “I heard about the glass incident. Iliana’s never been the most graceful. Have you, Squeaks?”
“Well, I think that’s enough of the ‘let’s humiliate Iliana’ show for today,” Iliana said, but her dimples were showing so I knew she was actually okay. And she looked beautiful.
Wearing a strapless maxi dress that nearly touched the floor, she was almost fully covered except for her shoulders and arms, which were beginning to show a little tan from the island sun.
When she blushed and looked away, I realized I’d been staring. And since we were the center of everyone’s attention, I took a step back, preparing to say goodbye.
And nearly had my legs taken out from under me as Penelope burst onto the scene, throwing herself at me in a very undignified manner, her arms and legs circling me like she was climbing a tree. Guards and a harried looking Mrs. Kent came scurrying up behind her, but I waved them away.
My little wingwoman.
“I remember you,” she said and jumped down from me, bouncing on her toes in front of Iliana. “You’re the picture lady.”
Clearly charmed, Iliana smiled and gave the little princess a curtsey. “You have an excellent memory, Your Highness. Please let me introduce you to my friend, Jennifer. Jenn, please meet Your Highness Princess Penelope.
Penelope grinned bigger as she shook Jennifer’s hand, then reached out and took Iliana’s hand in both of her small ones. “Are you okay now?” she asked, carefully inspecting the thin line on Iliana’s palm.
I smiled. Penelope’s innate compassion would make her an excellent queen some day.
“Very much so, thank you.”
“Want to see my bow?”
In a whirl of activity, Penelope produced the pink and purple monstrosity from Mrs. Kent and rushed back to show Iliana her prize.
As I watched, Iliana squatted, not that she was too very much taller than the child to begin with, and they began chatting about the bow and how pretty it would look in her hair and different ways she could wear it.
“I like your hair,” Pen said, reaching out to stroke the brunette strands.
Even though it went against protocol, something the American probably didn’t realize, she stroked Pen’s hair, making Mrs. Kent gasp behind me. I held up a hand. Nothing to faint over, people.
“How do you know Sebastianos? Do you know he’s my cousin? He’s really cute, isn’t he? My daddy is trying to get him a duchess.”
Well, shit.
Grabbing for the little big mouth’s shoulders to steer her away, my grasp was dodged by the little darling. I narrowed my eyes at her as she smiled at me. It was a woman’s wily smile if ever I’d seen one.
“Don’t you have shopping to finish, Princess?” I said loud enough for Mrs. Kent to get the hint, but even she was unable to capture the nimble-footed princess. Instead, Penelope wrapped her arms around Iliana’s legs, which pulled at her dress, which being strapless nearly caused a nip slip of epic proportions.
Quickly, I stepped in front of her, shielding her from the majority of people crowding around us. “Sorry,” Penelope said, looking instantly contrite and on the verge of tears as Iliana struggled to get the dress back in place.
“It’s okay, I promise,” Iliana said gently, stroking the child’s hair again.
Another gasp came from behind me, and I didn’t even bother to assure Mrs. Ken
t that Penelope would survive another human’s touch.
“Are you friends with Sebby? You looked like friends on picture day? How do you know him? Are you going to marry him? Can I come to the wedding?”
Even as the questions flew warp speed from her mouth, Penelope’s laughing eyes told me that she knew full well what she was doing.
Although pink cheeked, Iliana was fully dimpled, and Jenn was laughing beside her. Those green eyes lifted to meet mine, and it was like a punch in the gut.
Then her full attention was on the little girl again. “Do you like llamas?”
Iliana’s question stopped Penelope in her tracks. “What? Llamas? I’ve never seen a llama, have you?”
And just like that, Iliana tamed the savage princess beast with pictures on her phone of all sorts of llamas.
“I spent time in Peru and got to live in a building that had four llamas in the field out back,” she was saying, and Penelope stood, completely absorbed in the story. “They liked to steal bags of chips from the corner market down the road, and the owner would get so mad, he’d chase them back to their paddock with his broom. One of the llamas, Julio, would even spit on the shop owner.”
The sound of Penelope’s giggles was musical, making me smile too. “Llamas sound like fun.” She looked up at me, batting those big blues. “Can we have a llama at the summer celebration? Are there any llamas in Cassia? Why don’t we get some? Daddy would let me if we asked him. Could I keep it in my rooms?”
As the questions flew out of her mouth, Mrs. Kent came forward and took the girl’s hand, and more llama talk ensued as she led her away after waving goodbye to her new friends.
Then I was face to face with Iliana again. Jenn cleared her throat. “I’m just going to go grab something to drink.”
When we were alone, I smiled down at the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. “Well played. I’ll have to remember the llama distraction in the future.”
She smiled. “One of my favorite subjects.” A flurry of camera flashes distracted her, and she frowned. “How can you stand this?”
Without looking at the gawkers, I shrugged. “It’s my life now.”
“Without giving away state secrets, is it a pain in the butt to plan something like this from a security standpoint? I feel like there are so many ways in and out of this place.”
Claiming My Duchess Page 10