20
Cara
I’ve been staring at my acceptance letter for hours. I barely slept last night. What sleep I did get was punctuated by nightmares.
I stare at the letter. The rest of the envelope contains information about the school and a few pamphlets about the voice program.
As the hours tick by, my decision doesn’t become any clearer.
A soft knock on the door makes me lift my head from the paperwork strewn around me.
“Come in!”
Cathy, my eldest sister, walks in. She lifts a cup of coffee and a muffin. “Breakfast.”
“Thanks,” I smile, shifting to sit up in bed.
Cathy closes the door behind her and gives me a hesitant smile. “I heard about the letter.”
“Father told you?”
She nods. “Congratulations. I always knew you’d do big things.”
“I’m pregnant.” I blurt out the words without thinking, then watch as my sister’s eyes grow wide with shock.
“You’re what?”
“It’s Prince Theo’s.”
“Holy fuck, Cara.”
I wince. Things must be bad when Cathy is swearing. I think I’ve heard her say bad words two or three times in my entire life.
She sits on the edge of the bed, placing the coffee and muffin on my bedside table. One of the Juilliard pamphlets crumples beneath her, but neither of us tries to move it. The silence in the room is oppressive. Cathy stares at a spot on the floor, her hands gripping her knees.
“Does Theo know?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“When did you find out?”
“Yesterday afternoon, right before I got home.”
My sister lets out a long sigh. She runs her fingers over her eyebrows to smooth them, a motion she does whenever she’s worried. Finally, Cathy looks at me.
“What are you going to do?”
My bottom lip trembles. I suck in a long breath, and finally force my voice to work. “I don’t know.”
Cathy’s always been the responsible one of all of us. She’s the eldest, and she has our mother’s strict propriety carved deep into her soul. Her posture is always perfect, and she values things like manners and traditions.
Right now, though, her shoulders soften. She opens her arms toward me and wraps me in a tight hug, rocking back and forth as I struggle to keep my composure.
As the first tears slip from my eyes, I know I’ve lost that battle. The dam is about to break. An ugly, snorting sob racks through my body, and Cathy just holds me. She rubs my back and shushes me softly until my sobs quiet down and I’m able to pull back.
“I’m scared.”
My sister nods.
I breathe in through my teeth, forcing my bottom lip to stop trembling. Finally, I meet my sister’s gaze. “I think I love him, Cathy.”
“Oh, Cara.” Her eyebrows draw together.
“That’s not everything.”
My sister tilts her head.
“We were only pretending to be together. Theo was getting Prince Dante to look into old laws to see if he could get away with becoming King without marrying anyone.” My voice is small when I say the last word. When we decided to pretend to be together, it felt like the right decision. It was just necessity, to keep his father happy for a couple of weeks.
Now, though?
The thought of Theo actively looking for reasons not to marry me breaks my heart. Cracks splinter across my chest as pain rattles through me.
I’m pregnant with his child, and he’s trying to find a way to break off our fake engagement.
My life is a mess.
Cathy gathers all the Juilliard paperwork in a big, messy pile and drops it on the floor. I try to hide my shock at my very proper, very tidy sister doing something like that. She climbs into my bed next to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders.
“Come here,” she says. “It’ll be okay.”
Why is it that people always say things will be okay? They say it like it makes a difference. Like I’d actually believe it. How can things possibly turn out okay?
If I go to Juilliard, I lose Theo. I have to raise this baby on my own. Best case, I struggle through voice school with a newborn baby. Worst case, I send my baby back to Argyle while I study—but that doesn’t seem like an option to me at all. I already love the little bundle of cells growing inside me. Giving it up to pursue something as frivolous as singing seems wrong.
On the other hand, if I stay, I’m giving up my dreams. No question about it. Once I tell Theo about the baby, I don’t even know how he’ll react. He’s actively looking for reasons not to marry me, and this will just add to the list.
Or maybe, his sense of propriety and duty will force him to marry me for real, whether or not he wants to. That would be the biggest tragedy of all. We’d be sentencing each other to a life of misery, all because of a baby neither of us planned to have.
I already know he doesn’t want a wife. I know he doesn’t want to lead the Kingdom into the same kind of scandal that happened with his father. I know that he wants to be clear-headed when he becomes King.
Having a wife he never wanted and a child he didn’t ask for doesn’t exactly fit into that vision. I must have been delusional yesterday, when I thought this baby was actually a good thing. That it might bring us closer together.
“You have to tell him, Cara,” Cathy says, resting her chin on top of my head.
“Who?”
Cathy scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
I sniffle, chuckling through the last of my tears. I pull away from my sister, leaning against the headboard. “I know.”
“The sooner he knows, the sooner you can make decisions. You’re keeping the baby?”
“Yes.” The word comes out with more vehemence than I intended.
Cathy just nods, as if she wouldn’t expect anything else. “So you have to tell him.”
“What if he doesn’t want it?”
“Then he doesn’t deserve it.”
Everything seems so simple when my sister says it, but it feels so much more complicated in my heart. Theo rejecting the baby feels like the same thing as Theo rejecting me—and that hurts. A lot.
I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I’ve fallen for Prince Theo. Hard. Harder than I thought was possible. The feelings I have for him are stronger than anything I ever felt for Luca. This isn’t duty or arrangement. It’s real. It’s powerful.
It’s going to break me into a million little pieces, and I’m never going to be able to put myself back together again.
Sliding my hand over my stomach, I let out a sigh.
Cathy nudges my shoulder. “Sing me something, Cara.”
“What? Why?”
My sister smiles. “Maybe you’ll go to voice school. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll end up with Theo. Maybe you won’t. One thing I know for sure, though? You have a beautiful voice and singing brings you joy. Heck, your singing brings me joy. It’s a gift, Cara. You should use it whether or not you decide to go to Juilliard.”
Tears prickle my eyelids, but I try to contain myself. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to turn into a blubbering mess and give in to all my worst fears.
Instead, I take a deep breath and I sing the first thing that comes to mind. It’s an old love song that Prudence and I sang together, one that our father used to sing to our mother when we were little. Cathy leans against the pillows on my bed and closes her eyes. When I sing the chorus, she joins in with me.
My heart swells.
I haven’t heard Cathy sing since we were kids.
She’s right. My voice is a gift, and I can’t give it up. As a hurricane of emotion blows around me, whistling through the cracks in my armor, I need to cling onto the things that are real.
My baby is real, and I need to protect it. My voice is real, and I need to cherish it.
My love for Theo is real, and I need to find out if he feels the same way.
The
door to my room opens, interrupting our singing. My mother stands in the doorway, eyebrow arched. She looks at the pile of paperwork on the floor and then swings her gaze to my sister and me. Cathy shuffles off the bed, adjusting her clothing and clearing her throat.
My mother stares at me with cold, hard eyes. “The Crown Prince is here. He’s asking for you.”
21
Theo
A maid places a silver tray beside me. A cup of tea lets off a wisp of steam as the maid curtsies and backs away. My knee bounces up and down. Tristan Shoal stares at me from across the living room.
“We weren’t expecting to see you today, Your Highness.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Lie.
I couldn’t stay away. I’ve only been apart from Cara for a day, but after my conversation with Dante, I felt like I had to talk to her.
We’re connected. Cara and I share something that I didn’t even know was possible. I thought I wanted to be alone. To lead this country to prosperity on my own. To protect myself from the kind of scandal that marred my father’s rule.
Now, I’m realizing I was wrong. I don’t want that at all.
I want Cara.
“Cara got some good news in the mail,” Tristan says, reaching for his own cup. It looks tiny in his meaty hands. Even as he ages, he looks like an athlete. Still a national treasure, and now the terrifyingly imposing father of the woman I’m falling in love with.
“Did she?”
Tristan nods, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “She was accepted to The Juilliard School in New York. To study singing.” His eyes gleam, and my heart stops dead. If Tristan notices, he doesn’t let on. “I always knew she had a gift.”
“N-New York?” I repeat.
Tristan shifts his gaze to me, nodding. “I was shocked, too. I think people like you and me—who have the soul of Argyle deep in our bones—don’t understand wanting to leave this place. It’s paradise.”
My throat is tight. I nod.
“But Cara’s different.” Tristan smiles again, sipping his tea. “She’s always wanted to see the world. To be independent. I didn’t understand it until she got that letter in the mail. Now, I know. She wasn’t meant to be held down. She’s like a bird. She needs her freedom.”
Another Doctor Doolittle. Great.
I rack my brain to try to think of something to say, but all I can think of is Cara leaving.
She doesn’t feel what I feel. She doesn’t want to stay. She doesn’t want to see if things could work between us.
Her father’s words hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut, because I know there’s truth to what he’s saying. Cara does need her freedom. She deserves to explore the way she’s always dreamed. She should go to the best voice school in the world to pursue her dreams.
Who am I to hold her back?
Keeping her in Argyle, no matter how much she thinks she cares about me, would be wrong.
As the realization settles in, my heart sinks deeper and deeper, until I’m not sure it’s even part of my body at all. Then, Cara appears in the living room doorway. I stand up, staring at her makeup-free face and her red-tipped nose. Her eyes are clear, and she stares at me with a million questions in her eyes.
Pain shatters through my chest.
I need to let her go. As soon as I see her face, I know Cara deserves to be set free. If she stayed, I’d be condemning her to a life of duty. Of service. Of living in the public eye.
A life without singing, unless it was in the privacy of our own home.
She’d never be able to share her gift. She’d never be able to study music. She’d never be able to explore the world the way she wants to.
Cara sinks down into a curtsy, and the movement makes a lump appear in my throat. It’s too formal for how I feel about her. She shouldn’t be curtsying for me. She should be running to me and throwing her arms around my neck. She should be planting a kiss on my lips and smiling at me, pressing her body into mine.
But the distance between us grows. She stands up straight, moving to sit beside her father.
“I wasn’t expecting you tonight, Th— Your Highness.”
I wince at the formal title. Twenty-four hours ago, before we flew back to the main island, I had my face buried between her legs. Now she’s talking to me like she doesn’t even know me.
“I was hoping to speak to you alone.” I glance at her father, whose eyes narrow ever so slightly.
There’s a slight pause, and then he heaves himself off the sofa. “I’ll leave you to it.”
We watch him walk away. I stand up, moving to sit next to her. “I heard about your acceptance to Juilliard,” I start.
Cara’s eyebrows jump up. She glances at the door where her father disappeared, then lets out a sigh. Her hand moves to her stomach as she shifts her gaze back to me.
“I only heard about it yesterday when I got back.”
“Congratulations.” My voice is flat.
“Thank you.” Her eyes are dim.
Silence settles between us, and I try to find the right words. If I tell her I’m falling for her, will she feel obligated to stay? To give up her dreams? To sacrifice everything she wants just for me? Will I only be making her decision to leave that much harder?
Maybe I shouldn’t tell her anything. Let her leave without looking back, just like she wanted.
I take a deep breath. “I spoke to Dante.”
“Oh? Did he find anything?”
I nod. “Apparently having a spouse is only convention, not law. He thinks that with public opinion of me being so high, I can probably take the throne without getting married.”
Cara swallows. She forces a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s good news.”
“Is it?”
She doesn’t answer.
“I haven’t spoken to my father yet,” I continue. “But if you agree, I’ll tell him that the engagement is off. That I’m not taking a wife before the coronation. That you’re pursuing your dreams in New York.”
Cara’s eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them away rapidly. She clears her throat. “If that’s what you want, it sounds good. Logical.”
“Is it what you want?”
“Does that matter?” Her gaze sharpens. She tilts her head as her hand stays on her stomach. It’s like Cara’s wrapping her arms protectively around herself, and I hate that I have that effect on her.
“Of course it matters.”
“Theo, you’re the King. You’re the one who needed a wife, and I’m the one who agreed to pretend. Why do you care what I think?”
“Because I care about you, Cara.”
She frowns, scoffing. “Are you asking me if I want to marry you?”
I gulp. “I don’t know. I’m asking you what you want.”
“Why?”
I jab my fingers through my hair. This is going all wrong. Nothing is coming out the way I meant it to. I wanted to come here, profess my love for her, and find out if she felt the same way. I had visions of her throwing her arms around me and promising herself to me. Saying she wanted to be my wife. Telling me she wanted to have my children.
But her acceptance to voice school changes that.
Now, if I tell her how I feel, I’m standing in the way of her and her dreams. Asking her to give up singing school is too much of a sacrifice. She’d be giving everything up…for what? For me?
I take a deep breath. “I care about you, Cara. I just want you to be happy.”
Cara’s face crumples as she turns away from me.
“Cara…” I put my hand on her thigh, the heat of her body sending a zing of heat through my arm.
Can I really let her go?
“Cara, I’m so proud of you. You deserve to go to the best voice school. You’re going to do amazing things.”
When she turns to face me, her eyes are clear again. She takes a shaking breath, gulping.
“So I guess this is goodbye?”
My heart squeezes.
“I guess so.”
When Cara leans over and presses her lips to mine, I know it’s over. My heart splinters and cracks, sending pain radiating through my chest. Agony shoots through every muscle, every bone, every ligament and tendon in my body. I tremble, leaning my forehead against hers as I suck in a painful breath. My shoulder aches. Everything hurts.
Cara pulls away first, not meeting my eye.
“You’ll make a great King, Theo.” She stands up, smoothing her shirt down before lifting her gaze to meet mine. “Thank you for taking me with you on the tour. Even though it was temporary, it was one of the best experiences I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.”
So, stay. Be with me. Marry me. Be my queen.
The words are trapped in my chest. I stand up, bow, and turn on my heels to walk away.
Cara doesn’t follow, and I show myself out of her house. It’s done.
22
Cara
When I walk out of the living room, Cathy is standing near the doorway. Her lips are pinched and her eyes are full of sadness.
Behind her, my mother is leaning against the wall.
“What are you thinking, Cara?” my mother chides. “Did you just turn down the Crown Prince?”
“I can’t turn down someone who’s not asking me to be with him.”
“Oh, please,” she answers, rolling her eyes. “I couldn’t hear everything, but I know what the look on his face meant.”
“You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”
I turn away from the two of them, unable to withstand the assault of their gaze. Cathy looks heartbroken. She knows I didn’t tell Theo about the baby.
In my mother’s eyes, all I see is disappointment and deep-seated anger. I just ruined all her hard work. All the years she spent moving up the social ladder in Argyle. All the money she spent clothing us and sending us to etiquette school. All the social events she attended in order to get us closer to the royal family.
I finally had the chance to make it all worthwhile, and I threw it away.
Knocked Up by the Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 13