“God, no,” Marjorie exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a rosy color. “Charles is intelligent and worldly and— You’re making fun of me!”
Merrick laughed. “Just hoping to steer the attention away from me.” He motioned toward the piano bench. “There you have it, Mother. Marjorie will have the next royal wedding of your dreams.”
“Don’t jinx me,” Marjorie replied, shooing him with a finger. “He hasn’t even asked!”
Marjorie and Charles had spent a decent amount of time together, and both seemed equally smitten, so a proposal was most likely imminent.
“Yet,” his mother replied. “He hasn’t asked yet.”
When Marjorie looked back at her mother dreamily, Merrick presumed the scrutiny had passed, but then his mother refocused her attention on him. “Well, then…my idea for a masquerade ball next month is perfect,” she exclaimed. “We will invite all eligible debutantes for a lovely evening of dinner and dancing to welcome the winter solstice.”
“No pressure at all,” Merrick muttered, and Marjorie threw him a sympathetic look.
“The royal family hasn’t thrown such a ball in years,” his mother remarked, standing from the piano and heading toward the large picture window. At nighttime, you could just make out the streetlamps in the nearby towns. “We’ll have the kingdom buzzing.”
“You definitely had them buzzing when you made an appearance at the winter event,” his father responded, holding up a section of the Pinewood newspaper. “Says here that the queen had finally attended a nontraditional affair. The reporter suggests that the royal family has not been in touch with its subjects.”
“Is that so?” his mother replied but stopped short of rolling her eyes. The same reporter delighted in pointing out the royal family’s shortcomings. Merrick knew it worried his mother, even though she tried to pretend it did not. It was imperative the royal family did not lose favor with its kingdom, which was another reason why producing new generations of children was important.
“Except for the handsome Prince Merrick, of course, who has a soft spot for those in need,” his father read with some amusement in his voice. “The article mentions that you left the queen’s side to sit with the children from the orphanage. The same children you apparently engaged in a snowball fight with last month.”
Merrick smiled at the memory. “Yes, Cas…Cassius and I watched the sculpting competition at the winter festival and bought the children cotton candy. They seemed to have loads of fun.”
“Cassius?” his father asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Merrick’s new valet, of course,” his mother reminded him with a stern look. “He seems like a fine young man. How is he coming along?” Before Merrick could even respond, she added, “The last letter from Geoffrey, by the way, made it clear he was fully recovered and resting happily in his retirement.”
“Oh, that’s good news,” Merrick replied, feeling like he could barely remember a time when Cassius wasn’t in his orbit, or in his every thought, even though it had only been weeks since Geoffrey became ill and had to leave his post. “Yes, well…Cassius has learned the job very quickly, and I quite enjoy his company.”
“Enjoy his company?” his father repeated with a stunned look. “Merrick, he is a member of the staff and not—”
“Merrick’s new valet is almost the same age as him, so it makes sense that he would see him as a contemporary,” Marjorie blurted out in his defense as Merrick felt his pulse beating against his neck. “It’s rather nice having a normal conversation with the staff you see the most. I feel the same of Isabella, even though she is older than me. Don’t be so old-fashioned, Father.”
“That was not my point,” their father sputtered. “I only meant that it was important to remember their place and not profess too much.”
Too late for that. Merrick had already professed quite a great deal. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still feeling the effects of his night with Cassius. A well of shame rose up in his throat only to be tempered by a flash of anger.
“What is wrong with seeing our staff as people with real lives and interests? And vice versa, for that matter?” Merrick replied a little too dramatically. “Maybe what the newspaper reports isn’t so far-fetched. In fact, I think we should plan to do more. Maybe allow tours again. Invite the public in so they do not think we’re a bunch of snooty aristocrats stuck inside our lofty castle.”
“Is that really how you feel?” his father asked, shifting his knees toward him, concern etching his face.
When Merrick’s eyes flashed to his mother, she was watching him ever so intently, her gaze wide and assessing, a mix of wariness and wonder on her face.
“Yes, of course I do,” Merrick replied, holding fast to his opinion. Not wanting to tiptoe around his own family, though he was not fond of his father’s anger or judgment. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“Then I suppose your legacy is already defining itself,” his father responded with some admiration in his tone. “It makes me proud that you are already considering the kingdom you will rule someday and what might be best for it.”
Merrick certainly wasn’t expecting that response from his father. His mother remained silent, avidly watching their exchange as did Marjorie, a look of subdued awe across her features. Merrick knew she agreed with him, but she knew when to hold her tongue…in most cases.
“You flatter me, Father,” Merrick replied, bowing his head in deference. “Besides, I expect you to rule this kingdom for many more years to come.”
At least Merrick hoped with all his might to delay the inevitable.
The following morning, Marjorie entered his chamber and threw herself melodramatically onto the wingback chair near the window, attempting to decipher a message she’d received from Charles.
“I informed Charles about the upcoming ball, and do you know what his reply was?” she asked in a high-pitched tone that grated on Merrick’s nerves. “He told me he looked forward to it and that it would be the perfect evening. Do you suppose that means it is the night he intends to ask for my hand in marriage?”
Merrick had been pacing the room the last hour, wondering where his valet was. He could barely concentrate on his sister’s excitement.
Had Cas decided not to return? Did he have regrets about the other night? Maybe he thought it was too risky to continue in his role when he had fucked the prince in his own bed. Merrick shivered at the memory.
“Well, you’re no use,” Marjorie replied, huffing in exasperation. Suddenly she straightened her shoulders. “Maybe Cassius can help. He offered good advice last time.”
Merrick turned suddenly to see his valet standing at his chamber door, his hair mussed from the wind and face flushed from the cold, looking adorably late. “I apologize, Your Highness. I should’ve returned last night, but it was my sister’s birthday, and she asked me to stay.” He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. “But this morning the first train had apparently broken down on the tracks, and I had to await the next one.”
Merrick’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Cassius had not abandoned him; he was merely late due to unforeseen circumstances.
“I remembered you did not have anything pressing this morning,” Cassius remarked, bowing his head. “I hope you will forgive my tardiness.”
Merrick longed to go to Cassius, to pull him to his chest and pepper kisses all over his face and throat. Instead, he forced himself to remain standing where he was, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Of course. There is no need to apologize.”
Marjorie looked curiously between them as their gazes clashed and held, drinking each other in. Merrick knew he should look away, but there was not a chance in hell he would.
“What is it you needed help with, Your Highness?” Cassius suddenly asked, as if remembering his place, and looked toward the princess.
“Oh, nothing really.” She waved her hand. “We were only discussing the upcoming ball.”
“Ball?�
�� Cassius asked, and Merrick’s stomach dropped to his feet.
“Our mother is putting together a winter solstice dance and will be inviting eligible ladies,” Marjorie explained, rolling her eyes theatrically. “In the hopes that my finicky brother might find his match.”
Cassius’s eyes snapped to his.
“Wh…when does the ball take place?”
“Next month,” Merrick replied, and Cassius’s shoulders seemed to relax.
A month. There was time. Time for what, he did not know.
Time to become even more besotted with his valet?
Time for his valet to find a new place of employment?
Merrick shook the thought from his head, unable to stomach the idea any longer.
“Would you like to visit the stables with me this morning?” he asked instead.
“Your Highness?” Cassius answered, glancing hesitantly at the princess.
“Um, yes,” Merrick remarked, getting his wits about him. “What I mean to say is, I’d like to take Ursula into the forest. Can you please prepare my riding clothes?”
“As you wish.” Cassius averted his gaze as he strode to the closet. Merrick refused to look in his sister’s direction, afraid the longing in his eyes would give him away.
20
Cassius
They did not speak much as they prepared Ursula and a second horse named Tabby for their ride. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but one that snapped with currents of longing, excitement, and nerves. They had agreed that their night together would be the only one. Cassius knew it was truly the most responsible decision to make, but he’d felt the prince’s eyes singe his skin as he’d invited Cassius for the ride—requested Cassius accompany him in front of Princess Marjorie as though the thought wasn’t unheard of. It had both thrilled and frightened him.
Their eyes caught every few moments, locked with one another’s, and their night together would replay through Cassius’s mind. Each time, the right corner of Merrick’s mouth kicked up as though he pictured the same.
They mounted their horses and were a slight distance from the castle before Merrick asked, “Will you call me by my name again? Just while we are out?” His voice was smooth as butter and sincere.
Don’t do it, Cassius. Draw the line between you again. Still, when he opened his mouth, no was not what slipped out. “I would like that, Merrick.”
Merrick grinned, both corners of his mouth rising this time, and it was like a jolt to the chest. Cassius felt the smile as though it was his own, and wanted nothing more than to continue giving Merrick cause to look at him that way again.
“I would like it too, Cas.”
Cassius felt his cheeks warm at Merrick’s reply. He reached up and tugged down his knitted hat.
A thought swam through Cassius’s head. It was silly and foolish and absolutely not proper to ask the prince, but he’d also spent time inside Merrick, was treated with Merrick’s smiles and a request to call him by his name, so he threw caution to the wind and said, “I’ll race you.”
A competitive glint sparked in Merrick’s eyes. “As you wish,” he replied before giving Ursula her cue to canter.
“Cheat!” Cassius called, and then Tabby was galloping too.
Greens, browns, and white flew by him as they went. Merrick was a more seasoned rider than him. Cassius had known that when he made his request, but he urged Tabby faster, not willing to give up.
He recalled their first conversation in the stables about flying and freedom, and this moment was just that. They were traveling together, journeying to a land that was theirs and theirs alone. A secret world where responsibilities and rules regarding what was proper or not didn’t exist. A place that was made in Cassius’s imagination where he and Merrick could touch, kiss, talk, and laugh with no consequences.
A place he wished truly existed but did not. It was a lie. They were not lovers, not in the true sense. He would not be allowed to have Prince Merrick again or to give himself to the prince. But in this moment that truth was not their reality, and Cassius allowed himself to pretend Merrick was courting him. That they were simply two men who desired one another and could have what they wanted.
“Are you coming or not?” Merrick called back at Cas, laughter in his voice.
“You’re winning because you cheat!” Cassius replied, feeling as if he’d had a spell cast upon him. Joy rose through his chest as the wind bit at his skin.
They did not stop until they were again in the magical world that Merrick had shown him, hidden under a canopy of trees.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure you were still coming,” Merrick teased when Cassius pulled Tabby to a stop beside him.
He enjoyed this side of the prince. It was the true Merrick, he believed. “Your head is quite large,” he replied with a smile. There was a moment where his pulse jumped, where Cassius feared he should not have taken such liberties in teasing the prince, but he earned an eye roll and a chuckle, which calmed his nerves.
“So it is, from time to time. I cannot pretend I don’t enjoy a friendly competition.” Merrick dismounted, so Cas did the same.
“Next time you won’t win,” Cassius replied before a flutter of disappointment shot through his chest. There likely would not be another time. Or if there was, not many. “The ball…” he said as they tied the horses to a tree.
“Please…I don’t want to speak of that.”
“But we must acknowledge it, no?” Cassius replied.
“Must we?” Merrick asked. “We both know it’s the reality. Why can we not be two men out for a ride, enjoying one another?” Merrick paused, exhaled a puff of breath. His arm rose slowly until his gloved hand cupped Cas’s cheek. “Can we not pretend one more time? Can we not take this moment, live in it as though it is not our last and the future is not already decided?”
Cassius wanted that. Lord help him, but he did. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his cheek into Merrick’s hand.
“I’m sorry. It is wrong of me to push.” He attempted to pull his hand away, but Cassius snapped his arm up, capturing Merrick’s wrist before he could move.
“Please…don’t apologize. I would like that too.”
He knew Merrick was smiling before he opened his eyes, and sure enough, he was. “Come. There is something else I’d like to show you.”
Cassius nodded and then followed Merrick to the opposite side of their hideaway, down a brief path to a small wooden shelter. It had a roof, three walls, a bench, and was no more than five feet long and about four feet wide. “It is for weary travelers to rest, while providing a bit of shelter from the weather.”
“Are the horses okay?” Cassius asked. They were within sight but barely.
“Yes. If anyone happened upon them, they would not bother them—not with the royal crest on them—but no one is ever here. It is too close to royal land for most.”
Cassius nodded, believing him. He thought maybe he would believe anything Merrick told him.
“I come to draw. I thought you would write too, if you’d like? Did you bring your journal? I have paper and pencil for you, if you did not.”
Cassius felt those words in his chest. Merrick had thought about him, had planned this for the two of them and considered what Cas might need. “I have it, Your—Merrick.”
“Your Merrick. I quite like the sound of that.”
Cassius fancied it more than he should.
They removed their journals and pencils from their bags before sitting in the small shelter, side by side. Merrick licked his lip when he drew, sucked the end of the pencil into his mouth when he thought. His brows pulled together, his forehead wrinkled. Cas wondered what his own face did when he wrote. What would Merrick notice about Cas if he watched him?
Merrick sat close to him. Cassius felt the warmth of his body along his left side. He wondered if Merrick noticed his body heat as well.
He was becoming too involved…too attached, so he fought to pull his attention away from Merrick and back into his own
world, putting pencil to paper and beginning a story of a faraway land where there wasn’t always snow, and where two men lived together in a small shelter in the woods.
He did not know how much time passed in this comfortable manner before his attention was drawn to Merrick again and he realized the prince was watching him.
“You bite your lip when you write,” Merrick said.
Cassius smiled. “You lick yours when you draw.”
“Apparently, we each have a fixation on lips.”
Cassius couldn’t help but laugh. “Apparently, we do. Have you always enjoyed drawing?”
Merrick nodded. “As long as I can recall. It is my escape. Not as though I have much to escape. I understand how privileged I am, but…”
“But it’s not easy for you either. We all have our struggles. I didn’t see that before, but I do now.”
Merrick nodded, appreciation clear on his beautiful face. He closed his notebook, set it aside, and asked, “What of you? And you said you write both poetry and short stories, correct?”
Cassius set his journal aside as well. “It is similar for me. I used to make up stories to tell my parents and my sisters—wild tales about animals who spoke and boys and girls who flew and magical parks where my sisters could get transported to another time.” He smiled at the memories, feeling warmth in his chest. “My parents…both encouraged me and didn’t at the same time. My father, more so than my mother, believed it was okay to dream as long as I was aware it was only that. Writing would never be more than a hobby. It would not provide for my family, which was, of course, the most important thing.” It had to be.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love them and they me. That’s our life just as your life is yours. We cannot change that.”
Merrick sighed, looked down, and then slowly reached over, twining the fingers of his right hand with Cassius’s left. “No, we cannot. It would be nice if we could. We are similar, Cas—twin souls, I believe. We love art and our families and are bound to destinies we didn’t choose but will follow anyway.”
Ever After (Forbidden Love #1) Page 13