The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One (The Royals Saga)

by Geneva Lee

  “I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

  “I don’t like what you’re suggesting. “

  “This isn’t a suggestion.” Albert’s fist cracked against the wall, sending a shower of dusty plaster to the floor. “This is a demand. Consider this the first of many sacrifices you’ll make in the name of this country. She’s a natural choice for you. The right age. Close ties to the family. And impeccable breeding.”

  “I’m not a horse you put out to stud,” Alexander warned in a gruff voice. “I’ve made my choice.”

  “I don’t know why you’re under the impression that you have the right to make a choice, but if you’re insinuating that you’ve chosen this American slut, then perhaps I should reconsider whether Edward would be a better fit for the crown.”

  “You will speak respectfully of Clara or this conversation ends!”

  “You’re so intoxicated with her that you can’t see the damage you’ve caused this family. It’s time for you to start accepting your role. Or…” Albert trailed off menacingly.

  “Or what? It must be killing you,” Alexander said. “To have to choose between your greatest disappointment or your openly gay son. Well, in case you haven’t noticed, neither of us are interested in meeting your demands.”

  “Mother,” Albert turned to Mary, “please take Clara into the sitting room, so I can speak freely with my son.”

  I winced at the way he snarled my son. If he wasn’t speaking freely now, I wasn’t certain I wanted to be here when he unleashed the full fury of his opinion. But there was no way I was going anywhere, especially with her. I’d had the privilege of attending brunch with her once when Alexander had taken me to his family’s country estate for the weekend. It had been enough one-on-one time to last me the rest of my life.

  “Clara, stay,” Alexander warned me as his grandmother rose from her seat. “We’re nearly finished here.”

  “We are nowhere near finished, and we won’t be until you understand that you will defuse this situation.” Albert stepped closer to his son. The two were so very different. Alexander had inherited his mother’s dark hair and striking features. His father’s pale skin and graying hair made him look sickly in comparison. But seeing the two of them locked in a battle of wills, there was no denying the power radiating from father and son. Neither would back down tonight. That much was clear. What wasn’t clear was who would win in the long run.

  “This affair of yours is becoming a national embarrassment,” Albert hissed. “Neither I nor this country will stand for it to continue.”

  “Affairs are secrets. My relationship with Clara isn’t something I hide, and I don’t give a damn what you or this country thinks of it! Your blood runs through my veins whether you like it or not. I will be king whether you like it or not.” Alexander strode toward me, grabbing my hand roughly. “And I will be with Clara whether you like it or not.”

  Albert’s lip curled into a foul sneer. “We shall see.”

  “We shall,” Alexander repeated.

  He whipped around, leading me from the room. Alexander walked so swiftly that he practically dragged me behind him, and I quickened my pace to keep up with him. As we entered a darkened hall, I released his hand, forcing him to stop and face me.

  I was no longer his secret, but I had one of my own and I couldn’t carry its weight any longer.

  “I have to tell you something.” My heart pounded a drumbeat in my chest. I ignored it, forcing the confession out in a tangle of words and apologies. “Pepper came to me before we left for St. Moritz. She warned me that she had information that could destroy you, and I didn’t believe her.”

  Alexander stared at me in stony silence.

  I gulped as raw fear rose in my throat but continued, “She gave me a chance to stop her, and I didn’t take it. This is all my fault.”

  “What did she ask of you?” he asked in a low voice that chilled my blood.

  “She wanted a trade of sorts. She said if I left you, she she wouldn’t destroy you.” Tears rolled fat and hot down my cheeks. “I was too selfish to protect you.”

  Alexander was next to me in a flash. His hand cupped my chin, raising my tear-stained face to his. “I protect you. Where was Norris? She should never have been allowed near you.”

  “I sent him away,” I admitted. “I thought I could handle her.”

  “No one can handle a feral bitch like Pepper. I’m not angry with you, poppet.” He wiped a tear from my wet lashes with the pad of his thumb. “I am angry that I was not made aware of the situation. Although I doubt anyone could have expected this based on a few vague threats and ultimatums. I will have to speak to Norris.”

  “Don’t,” I pleaded. “He did nothing wrong. I messed up.”

  “Be that as it may, I don’t want you to have further contact with her.”

  “I won’t now that I know how crazy she is,” I said.

  His face was cast in shadow, but the doubt that flickered over it was unmistakable.

  “She…is…crazy,” I repeated in a strangled voice. Every bit of me ached for the reassurance that Alexander had spoken honestly earlier—that there were no lies between us now.

  “I didn’t drug her. I don’t find unconscious women arousing.”

  But he was leaving something out, purposefully withholding his thoughts from me. I wasn’t going to force the issue, not while he was still processing this new information.

  “There’s more,” I said, but I pressed my index finger to his lips as his mouth opened. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  “I need to be sure, and then I will tell you everything, poppet. No more secrets. No walls between us.” He kissed the back of my hand then clutched it in his own. “Tonight, though, I want to take you home.”

  “I’ll go wherever you lead,” I promised, knowing with absolute certainty that I meant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The street was quiet as the Rolls pulled up in front of our gate. Alexander exited the car with express directions for me to remain inside. I waited, longing to be inside and behind the wrought iron fence that separated our private world from the public one forcefully encroaching upon us. When he finally opened my door and offered his hand, I was all too eager to take it.

  “Norris will get the bags,” he said quietly, “and I’ll be right behind you.”

  He’d been silent for much of the ride home, and I didn’t know if he was stewing over his furious exchange with his father or trying to fit recent events together. All I knew was that we were home. Unlatching the gate, I stepped onto the paving stones that formed a welcoming path to my front door. Movement caught my eye and I startled, falling back against the latch. My fingers closed over it, instinct telling me to run, until a familiar face appeared in the darkness.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, still breathless from the scare.

  “I came to speak to Alexander. I imagine he’s expecting me.”

  At that moment, Alexander came through the gateway and froze. His gaze grew icy as it locked on his old friend’s face.

  “Jonathan,” he said coldly.

  Slowly, a piece of the puzzle I’d been trying to fit together clicked into place, but the larger image was still obscured. I looked to Alexander and back to Jonathan, trying to read the unspoken thoughts that played across both their handsome faces.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Alexander continued.

  “I had to,” Jonathan interrupted. “I need to explain what happened—”

  “Your presence here is all the explanation I require. Leave,” Alexander commanded in a low voice. Jonathan shook his head and a growl rumbled through Alexander.

  I stepped back, cloaking myself in the shadows of the garden. I wanted to fade into the night so neither of them would recall my being here. Luckily they only saw each other. The air surrounding us thickened into a palpable tension. I could draw my hands through it, slice it open, and still not damage the heaviness of the atmosphere. It warned of viol
ence and blood as much as the brutal hatred emanating from Alexander’s body. I took solace in the fact that Norris was nearby. I would be no match for these two if, or rather when, this came to blows.

  “It wasn’t what you assume.” Jonathan stepped closer, shoving his hands nervously in the pockets of his wool coat. “It was innocent.”

  “Nothing that happened that night was innocent,” Alexander roared. His words shattered through the night and echoed in the silence. A few houses down, a porch light flickered on.

  But I didn’t move to quiet them. What was passing between them was unstoppable. They were somewhere else entirely, caught in a web of the past that only confrontation would free them from. I could only watch the fallout.

  “Pepper wanted it. It wasn’t much. Just enough to loosen her up.” Jonathan’s voice rose, desperate to be heard. He shook his blond head. “I should have said no. She was just a kid.”

  “And Sarah?” Alexander snarled. “Did she want it, too?”

  “I swear to god I didn’t give any to Sarah. If she took some, it wasn’t mine. They shouldn’t have even been there that night. They were underage.” Jonathan rambled on, only making himself sound guiltier. He was single-handedly signing his own death certificate.

  The picture grew clearer until I could see all the pieces—the dozens of mistakes fitting together to form a tragic story. There had been drugs that night, but it hadn’t been Alexander providing them. I’d known that, but I hadn’t understood how Sarah had taken them. Now I knew. Jonathan had made a mistake, and it had cost an innocent girl her life.

  “Did you know?” Alexander closed the space between them and grabbed Jonathan’s collar. “When we left that night, did you know that Sarah was drugged?”

  A wave of shame washed over Jonathan’s features. “I suspected.”

  Alexander shoved him to the ground and lorded over him, hands curling into fists. The fury rolled off of him and my own terror rose into my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had no clue how far Alexander could take things or how much his blood called for revenge. I’d never been frightened of him before, but now he terrified me. Stepping from the shadows, I placed my body between the men.

  “You don’t—”

  Alexander’s sharp look silenced me. “This doesn’t concern you, Clara.”

  “Everything you do—everything you feel and endure—concerns me,” I said softly. “Don’t chase the past, X. Let it go.”

  “Letting go is for mistakes. This wasn’t a mistake, it was cold-blooded and cowardly.” He pushed me away, crouching down so that his face was inches from Jonathan. “There is a time for forgiveness. This is not that time.”

  He gripped Jonathan’s collar, dragging him to his feet. Alexander released him only long enough to strike the first blow to his friend’s stomach. It caught Jonathan hard and he sucked at air he couldn’t capture. But his response was immediate, his own fist flying to crack across Alexander’s left cheek. I fell back as they struggled, torn between crying for help and running. Jonathan was no match for Alexander’s strength, not when it was coupled with unconstrained rage. His hands closed over Jonathan’s neck, who fought back, clawing at Alexander, desperate for air. Jonathan’s face clouded as his fingers slackened, dropping to Alexander’s chest.

  “Enough!” The cry ripped through me, and I threw my weight against Alexander. It wasn’t much of a fight, but it was enough to make him lose his grip.

  Jonathan stumbled back. Gasping and sputtering, he collapsed to his knees.

  “Not like this,” I pleaded with Alexander. “He isn’t worth it.”

  “She was worth it,” he growled. “But you’re right. This piece of shit isn’t.”

  He rounded on Jonathan. “Get the fuck out. I never want to see your face again.”

  I clutched Alexander, restraining him the best I could while whispering soothingly to him. It had no effect. His body remained rigid and on edge even as Jonathan got to his feet and staggered to the gate.

  Jonathan paused and turned to face Alexander, his knuckles white as he gripped the latch. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  Alexander didn’t look at him, but his response sent a chill racing down my spine. “It’s worth very little.”

  Some things could be forgiven. Some mistakes left in the past. This could never be forgotten. It would never be forgiven. Jonathan seemed to sense this, his eyes closing briefly, before he left the gate swinging behind him.

  I entwined my arm around Alexander’s, encouraging him toward the door, but he didn’t move. He wrenched away, picked up the bags that lay scattered across the path and walked inside. I let the silence of the night envelop me, finding cold comfort in the contours of branches and the outlines of houses. Nothing felt real, as though the world had been erased down to the barest sketch, leaving me to exist in the shades of murky gray it cast.

  This wasn’t something I could fix. Jonathan’s mistake couldn’t simply be shrugged off. It had shattered too many lives, and its revelation had only reopened the wounds Alexander carried within him. I could only love him through it, leading the way through the darkness that had been cast over us once more.

  Norris came to the gate, drawing a surprised gasp from my lips. “Where were you? He almost…he almost…”

  My emotions overwhelmed me and I fought hard against the tears threatening to spill over. How many times could I cry tonight? Things weren’t a mess. This went above that. Albert wouldn’t stop until he’d forced Alexander and me apart. With each passing second, the world cast more judgment upon him. How long before he cracked? How long before the past broke our love again?

  “I protect Alexander,” Norris said. He took my arm gently and guided me toward the house. “But he will always fight his own battles.”

  “How do I get him to stop?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “How do I show him he doesn’t have to fight anymore?”

  Norris smiled sadly. “You already know the answer to that, Miss Bishop. You’ve been healing him since the day he met you, but wounds like these take time to mend.”

  “We’re running out of time.” It ached to say it, to acknowledge that it was hard. As each buried secret came to light, it became more difficult. It was harder to find my way through the ghostly haze of mistakes that clouded our love.

  “Love doesn’t run on clocks,” he said. He patted my hand, opening the door and waiting for me to step through. I watched him leave, contemplating his wise words. Since I’d fallen for Alexander, I’d been obsessed with the deadline that seemed to accompany our relationship. It had felt like a ticking bomb running on a timer I couldn’t see. Maybe Norris was right, though; my love for Alexander couldn’t be wiped away by past mistakes. It hadn’t faltered when confronted with threats or lies or gossip. The only person that could let him slip away was me.

  And I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Alexander’s athletic frame filled the doorway, and I looked to him, finding strength in that knowledge. I went to him, but just as I’d almost reached him, he pulled away.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  His words fell across me like a blow and I caught myself against the wall. I couldn’t allow him to pull away, not now. Not when he needed me.

  “Then let me,” I said softly. “Let me protect you tonight.”

  “No one can protect me from this,” he said harshly. His hands closed over the jacket he’d left strewn across the stair’s railing. He whipped it around him, shrugging into it and headed for the door.

  Deep inside me I found the strength to step between him and the door. “Don’t chase ghosts. Stay here. Stay with me.”

  “I want to, but there’s no point in pretending any longer, Clara. We both knew this day would come.”

  “Only if we let it,” I whispered, but my words were lost to the darkness that consumed him. It had taken hold, preventing him from finding the light that would guide him back to me.

  “I promised to protect you.” Ale
xander’s eyes flashed as he spoke and a familiar dread grew tendrils in my belly. “I will always do so. You are the air I breathe, Clara. The one good and true thing in my life. I understand now what protecting you means.”

  I understood, too. His words tugged at the fragile scars that held my heart together, and I felt it fracture and splinter along the fault lines I thought had healed. I had thought once that the pain of losing him would make me stronger. But this pain echoed though me, shredding me to the bone. With each breath I took, my chest contracted until I couldn’t find the air I sought.

  “No.” I forced the word past my dry lips.

  Alexander found me. His hand caught the back of my neck and brought my lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, the usual hunger absent, and yet more passionate for the bittersweet sorrow it tasted of. My lips parted in welcome, calling him to me as he searched for an answer without knowing the question. I answered with love. It washed over me and found him. A low hum built between us, but before I could mold my body to his, he broke away from me.

  I didn’t try to stop him when he opened the door. Alexander looked back at me, his eyes dull and distant.

  “Come back to me,” I commanded him.

  “I’ll try. I promise I’ll try.” And then he was gone.

  Our bed felt too large. I curled into a ball, tucking my knees against my chest, but I felt his absence as acutely as I’d felt his presence. No tears came. There were simply none left to cry. Each breath felt like an act of faith as though the next would bring proof that life would go on, and when sleep welcomed me into its comforting embrace, I allowed myself to slip away. Minutes passed. Hours passed. Night became my friend.

  And then I was no longer alone. I found him in my dreams, awakening to discover the weight of his body against mine. Alexander pulled me to him. His arms enveloped me, calling me out of the darkness. His fingers found my breasts, massaging my nipples until they throbbed painfully from the arousal of his touch, and I arched into him. I needed to feel his skin on mine—to know he was flesh and blood. The heat of his body scorched through me and I twisted in his embrace.