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Best Friend to Princess Bride

Page 4

by Katrina Cudmore


  She swallowed, the ability to talk suddenly vanishing. ‘After Michael...well, you know how crazy my life got for a while...’ she tucked her hands under her legs, liking the way her thighs squashed the tingling in her hands at the memory of Nick’s ring on her finger ‘...too much partying and drinking and getting into relationships and friendships that weren’t healthy.’

  Edwin shrugged. ‘You were trying to work things out.’

  She exhaled, remembering how much it had cut her to see Edwin’s disappointment each time he had learnt of yet another of her long litany of disastrous acts and decisions in the years after Michael’s death. Studying him, she bit her lip, wondering if she could dredge up the courage to ask the one question she’d always wanted to ask him, but never had the guts to—why he stuck around. She couldn’t bear the thought that it was just because he pitied her. ‘You were incredibly patient with me back then.’

  Moving even further into his seat, he placed his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped, his gaze holding hers. Her heartbeat rose and rose as the seconds passed. ‘You were hurting.’

  She blinked. Nodded, her throat knotted with emotion. Was it losing his mother that made him so empathetic to how deeply she had grieved Michael?

  ‘Once I graduated and moved here to Brighton for work, I thought for a while that I had my life under control. Mum and Dad’s divorce had gone through and I wasn’t having to constantly deal with their arguments. I was enjoying work and I had my own little flat, which I loved. But I knew nobody here in Brighton. And then you moved back to Monrosa.’ Picking up her teacup, she held the warm porcelain in her hands. ‘With you out of the country I didn’t even have someone to give me earache about my lack of judgement.’

  Edwin smiled. ‘Not earache, guidance.’

  With a deep inhale she admitted, ‘And then I met Nick. He seemed to be everything I was looking for—really attentive, and he wanted to be with me all the time. Our relationship made me feel safe.’

  She shuffled her chair a few inches away from the fire, a burning, embarrassed heat flaming inside her, knowing she needed to continue her explanation as to why relationships terrified her. ‘It’s hard to explain, but over time I began to realise that he was just too into me. He was constantly texting and calling me. Most evenings he came around here. He’d get angry when I had to work late or if I wanted to go out with work colleagues. He started to call me several times a day. Wanting to know where I was and who I was with. He said he called just to make sure I was okay. And then about a year into our relationship he entered a phase where he’d blow all hot and cold. One day he’d be kind and attentive and the next day he’d totally ignore me. I never knew where I stood with him and it utterly confused me.’

  Edwin’s nostrils flared.

  She could understand his anger.

  She rubbed the back of her neck. Would she ever stop feeling embarrassed for being so clueless? Would she ever stop feeling somehow responsible for Nick’s behaviour?

  ‘My self-confidence took a dive. I lost all direction and sense of myself. I felt so confused. You probably won’t remember this, but you came to visit after you had attended a financial summit in London. You knew something was wrong, so I pretended I was sick and just generally stressed out by work, and you insisted I take some annual leave. You brought me back to Monrosa to stay in your family’s villa in the mountains.’

  ‘I remember. You said it was a virus—you never said anything about Nick.’

  ‘I didn’t really understand myself what the matter was. I just had this overwhelming sense of panic. So I thought it was something physically wrong with me—some type of stress response to missing my parents and being so busy with work. What I failed to face up to was how destructive my relationship with Nick was.’ Kara swallowed at how Edwin’s mouth was pulled into a tight line, anger sparking from his eyes.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Because I didn’t want you to know that I had messed up once again. I wanted you to see me as a peer. Not Michael’s little sister who kept tripping up in life and needing your help.

  ‘It was during my week in Monrosa that the idea to set up a charity started to form in my mind. I thought about Michael and how he struggled in university. And how I had struggled when I moved to Brighton, away from everything that was familiar to me. I wondered if there could be more support and awareness-building for young adults on managing major transitions and their mental health. I also faced up to the fact my relationship with Nick wasn’t healthy, so I broke up with him when I returned to England.’

  His eyes narrowing, Edwin asked, ‘How did he take that?’

  Grimacing, Kara admitted, ‘Let’s just say it took him a while to accept it.’

  Edwin let out an angry breath. ‘Did he harass you?’

  ‘I had to block his number.’

  Edwin sat forward, rolling his shoulders, his expression perplexed. ‘Why didn’t you ask for my help?’

  ‘Pride and embarrassment, along with a dash of disbelief.’

  Edwin threw his head back and studied the ceiling before returning his gaze to her. ‘I wish you had told me.’ Then, with integrity burning brightly in his eyes, he said quietly, ‘I understand why you’d be cautious about getting into a relationship again and I swear to you I would never hurt you...but I get it, Kara. I’m not going to try to persuade you into something you don’t want to do.’

  Oh, thank God.

  But boy, did she feel guilty.

  ‘Is there anyone else you can ask?’

  ‘There’s no one else I can trust.’

  She leant back in her chair feeling weak with the simple sincerity of his softly spoken words. ‘I know how much this means to you.’

  ‘It’s my problem to sort out, not yours.’

  ‘Can you challenge the new law your dad passed?’

  ‘I’ve spent the past month trying to do just that. He’s refusing to budge.’ He stood and moved towards the door. ‘I need to go back to Monrosa tonight.’ Turning, he added, ‘Thanks for listening and I hope you can understand why I asked you—people respond to you so positively. Despite what people might like to think, being a royal requires a strong work ethic, empathy and above all the ability to be a strong role model—and you have those qualities in bucket loads.’

  Was that how he saw her? Really? Not the chaotic young adult who tested his patience endless times, or the charity CEO with a propensity to over-commit?

  ‘I assume it’ll be a temporary arrangement...if you find someone to marry.’

  He paused and considered her for a moment. ‘I can see no reason why it couldn’t be permanent.’

  ‘But what if you meet someone else? Actually fall in love?’

  ‘I have liked being single and not being tied down, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stay true to my marriage vows. This may be a working marriage but I will respect the marriage even more for that. I will respect that whoever marries me will do so in good faith and deserve my utmost loyalty.’

  Thrown, she asked, ‘But what of your father’s wish for grandchildren? How is that going to happen?’

  A hint of a smile lifted on his lips. ‘Are you asking me for a sex-education lesson?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I’ve told my father he may have forced my hand in marrying but that he has no say in whether or not I have children.’

  ‘How did he react to that?’

  ‘He was surprisingly unperturbed. I can’t help but think he didn’t want to give away his annoyance that he hadn’t included the need for children to be born in the marriage to be part of the succession rules.’

  Edwin left the room and, lost for words, Kara studied her hands. They were shaking. How hadn’t she noticed that before now? His footsteps echoed on the tiles of the kitchen floor. He came back into the sitting room, shrugging on his jacket. She moved in the chair
to stand. He gestured for her not to.

  As usual he went to give her a hug goodbye.

  But rather than hug her for the normal quick squeeze they usually shared, he laid his hands gently on her shoulders, their warmth seeping into her bones, his cheek brushing against her hair. Pinpricks of awareness bubbled on her skin. An air of sadness, almost vulnerability, surrounded him.

  She went stock still. How much must it have taken Edwin to ask her to marry him—this proud, self-sufficient man who never asked for help or support? A whoosh of admiration for him hammered through her. Edwin would have agonised over this and would not be asking her to marry him lightly. He really mustn’t have another option. She knew what it meant to him to succeed to the throne. All his ambitions for Monrosa. Her head swam with all the reasons why saying no was the only sane thing to do. But how could she turn him down when he had been her lifeline so many times before?

  He straightened. Her heart beating like a trapped butterfly, she tried to keep her voice steady. ‘I’ll give you two years. After that we can divorce. Anything less would seem...unbecoming.’

  ‘Are you saying yes?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Edwin pulled her into a hug, his arms holding her tight. Her head swam again. His chest was solid warmth, his scent the usual reminder of the mountain forests of Monrosa.

  When he pulled away his gaze held hers. ‘I need to leave for my flight. Think about your answer overnight. Call me tomorrow. I don’t want you rushing into a decision you may later regret.’

  With that he left the room and a few seconds later she heard the front door open and quietly shut. She let out a long exhale and clenched her shaking hands. Her gaze ran around her sitting room. This was her home. Was she really prepared to move away from this life she had built for herself to live in a country where she would know no one other than her pretend husband?

  CHAPTER THREE

  KARA ATTEMPTED TO join the other early Monday morning joggers as they ran along the promenade, but after a few hobbled steps she gave in to the tightness in her thigh.

  It was still dark, a heavy mist dancing around the street lights. She should have stayed in bed. But her jumbled thoughts had needed air.

  Last night she had created a pros and cons list for marrying Edwin when she hadn’t been able to sleep. On the cons side she had listed in no particular order of importance:

  Losing my privacy

  Leaving my job and home

  Moving to a new country

  The media sensation when we marry and divorce

  I have no idea what is involved in being a princess and I’ll just mess up

  My parents’ disapproval—they might like Edwin, and in truth not show much interest in my life, but I can’t see that stopping them having conniptions to see their only child agreeing to such a public and high-profile pretend marriage

  Having to fake being in love in public

  The damage it could do to our friendship

  On the pros side she had put:

  It could be fun??

  But she had crossed that out for being too frivolous and then had written in capital letters two single points:

  It’s my turn to help Edwin

  It will give me the platform to raise the international profile of Young Adults Together

  On a daily basis, the Young Adults Together internet forums received messages from people from all over the world looking for help and support. And the only way to ensure they reached as many people as possible was for local communities to get involved in the charity’s work and fundraising.

  It hadn’t taken her long to realise that the cons side of the list was heavily weighted towards the impact of accepting Edwin’s proposal would personally have on her. While the pros side was about her giving back. It was no contest really.

  However, there was an extra con she hadn’t even been able to write down last night, hating to think that Edwin was anything like Nick, but what if he was manipulating her? Just as Nick had used to do. Was he using her to antagonise his dad or perhaps to divert the media’s attention away from his succession to the much juicer speculation as to just why he had chosen her to be his bride? She knew she could trust Edwin—for crying out loud, he had done nothing but support her for the past decade...but that nagging doubt was still there.

  Cheers, Nick. You’ve really managed to make me paranoid about everyone’s motives.

  Hobbling back to her apartment, she knew she had to make a decision. Edwin deserved a final answer from her.

  Opening the front door, she went towards the kitchen, where she had left her phone charging last night. By the hall table she paused at the collage of photos on the wall, realising it had been a long time since she had stopped to look at them.

  Her gaze sought out one particular picture amongst the dozen others.

  Herself and Edwin and Michael, sitting in the beer garden of a pub in Oxford, wearing layers of clothes against the coldness of the winter’s night, Michael sitting in between herself and Edwin, his arms thrown around their shoulders, staring into the camera, his expression earnest. Michael had approached life with an intense but passionate seriousness, as though he owed the world a debt. Had university triggered his depression or was it something he had always struggled with?

  She blinked as tears washed over her vision, obscuring the photo of her two best friends.

  She had lost one.

  She wasn’t going to lose the other. And she certainly wasn’t going to let Nick’s behaviour influence her decision either.

  Edwin answered immediately. ‘Hi.’

  His voice was low and husky. Was he still in bed?

  Edwin lying in bed... Did he wear pyjamas? Somehow she couldn’t imagine him pulling them on. Wait... What exactly would their living and sleeping arrangements be when they married?

  Despite her throat being suddenly tighter than her dad’s wallet, she said in a tumble of words, ‘My answer is still yes. I’ll marry you. I’m assuming I’ll need to move to Monrosa...but then what?’

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. ‘I’m glad.’

  Her heart galloped at the reserved relief in his voice. She could hear a rustling sound of paper and then the soft tread of footsteps. She had been wrong. He wasn’t in bed. Was he having breakfast, in his office? Then he spoke again. ‘After we marry we will use the royal apartments within the palace. The south-wing apartments have been recently renovated and will suit us perfectly. There’s an office there with a balcony that overlooks the mountains that will be perfect for you.’ He paused. She could hear his footsteps again. And then he sighed. ‘We’ll need to share a bedroom, and a bed —our staff are usually very loyal but sometimes there can be a rogue insider who informs the media about our personal lives.’

  Was he serious? Share a bed!

  ‘How big is the bed we’ll be sharing?’

  ‘It’s an antique four-poster.’

  Any antique beds Kara had ever come across were always on the miniscule size. ‘How big?’

  Edwin cleared his throat, but not before she heard him chuckle. ‘I guess you could say it would be a cosy fit for two.’

  She huffed. And was grateful he couldn’t see her red cheeks right now. ‘Order a new bed and make it a super-super-king-size.’

  She ended the call to his laughter.

  And then she laughed too.

  Had she lost her mind?

  * * *

  Wednesday afternoon and the usually tranquil white drawing room of Monrosa Palace, with its walls draped in white and gold silk brocade, fragile French gilt-bronze furniture sitting on handwoven silk rugs, reverberated with impatient mutterings.

  ‘This atmosphere is more akin to that of a funeral than an engagement announcement,’ Edwin muttered to Victor, his personal secretary.

  Victor eyed the rest of the room
. Alongside Edwin’s father, who was getting increasingly agitated at the delay in starting the afternoon’s proceedings, the Secretary of State, the First Aide de Camp to His Royal Highness, the Chamberlain and various other advisors close to His Highness had assembled for the engagement announcement. And clearly none were happy with his father’s earlier declaration in a private briefing that he was going to abdicate the following day.

  ‘His Highness has ruled Monrosa for thirty-five years. We are a conservative society. In time the people will accept his decision,’ Victor replied with his usual understated diplomacy.

  Turning his back on the room, Edwin studied the news reporters gathered at the far end of the internal courtyard of the palace. The palace, once a Moorish fortress, had been extended and renovated by practically every generation of the Prado family, which had ruled Monrosa for the past six hundred years. His ancestor, Prince Louis II, had erected a low arched gallery supported by three hundred and sixty-five marble pillars around the internal parameter of the courtyard. His father’s contribution had been to commission the restoration of the frescoes painted by Miotto and Formano in the south wing of the palace.

  Even from the opposite side of the vast courtyard, originally constructed with another enemy in mind, Edwin could sense the media’s anticipation that something of importance was about to happen. His father addressed the press every Thursday afternoon. Only something of major significance would warrant a separate press gathering the day before.

  It’s about to happen.

  He balled his hands and breathed deeply into his diaphragm. He needed to ground himself, banish every reason why he didn’t want to do this and focus on the succession. Too much thinking and ruminating got you nowhere.

  The mumbling behind him had ceased.

  He whipped around.

  Standing with his aunt, Princess Maria, at the threshold of the room, her hair straightened into sleek waves, her professionally applied make-up emphasising the blue depths of her eyes, Kara stood scanning the room, until her eyes locked with his.

  She gave him a nervous smile.

 

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