“To match her eyes,” he said simply.
But there was still a shadow on his face, a veil pulled over his face. She could feel him withdrawing.
“Are these supposed to be a bribe?” she asked. “You should realize by now that you don’t have to offer me anything to get me in your bed.”
“I know it,” he said arrogantly, “but luckily for you, lust makes me stupid. You get emeralds, I get you.”
“Lucky me.” There was something he wasn’t telling her. She knew. She could see it in the tilt of his head, the way his eyes didn’t meet hers.
“You are dangerous for me.”
His words shifted the mood and they both grew serious.
She smiled, but it was a worried smile. “Dangerous how?”
“You make me want,” he said simply. His fingers slid into her hair and he stared deep into her eyes. “God, Siobhan, how you make me want.”
The words shattered her as much as the savage lovemaking had. “I…want, as well.”
After a while, he sighed and said, “I had dinner with Catriona and Aileen.”
I know. Siobhan stilled in his arms, but did not speak. Did not rush him for fear that he would change his mind, and there was nothing in the world she wanted more than for him to continue.
“I’m sorry I made you sad with my words today,” he whispered at her temple, to the wisps of hair that had come loose there.
Sad was such a simple, damaging word. It meant so much more than its elaborate cousins. He’d hurt her, and she’d soldiered through.
“I have been sad before, Dragon. I will be sad again.”
He hated that. “I wish I could take it all back.”
“You cannot.” She smiled. “All you can do is make up for it.”
I’ve made a hash of it, haven’t I? “I wish I could take you to Las Vegas and marry there, just the two of us. But now the entire population of Lektenstaten is waiting for us to marry on May fifteenth.”
“If you think on it,” she continued, “if I were attempting to land you in the parson’s noose, I’ve done a remarkable job of it.”
He laughed at the old-fashioned expression. “The parson’s noose?”
“Very ominous.”
“Not ominous,” he said. “But I thought love was not for me.”
He could see the question in her eyes, unspoken.
Why can’t you love me? Tell me. she’d asked. And he ached to do just that. And more. To tell someone why he was the man he was. To share his past.
He could tell her. He could show her. He tangled his fingers in hers, his thumb stroking across her soft skin, his gaze on a collection of little brown freckles that marked her shoulders. “I came back when I was seventeen.”
“For good?”
“I was just home from school for the summer. Like any man of my age who finds a woman for the first time, I…well, I thought it was it.”
She smiled. “You don’t need to hide what seventeen-year-old boys think.”
“What do you know about seventeen-year-old boys?”
“Enough to know having sex isn’t the worst thing you wished to do that summer.”
“I was too old to fish in the river and since I would be king in a few more months, I couldn’t very well while away the days.”
She imagined him younger, leaner, his long body not quite what it was now, his face freer of the character it held now. Handsome, but nothing like he was now. The bones of the man he would become. And too serious for his age, already carrying a burden to heavy.
She settled into his arms. She’d like to fish with him. She’d like him to build a fire on the banks of the river, and spend the evening telling her about his life as it grew dark around them. “I should like to have fished with you.”
He looked at her, surprised. “I’ll take you.”
“Aren’t you too old for it, now?” she teased.
He shook his head. “Now I’m old enough to know whiling away the days is not such a horrible way to spend one’s time.” He paused, “particularly with the right companion.”
“She was Romani—we called them gypsies then—and a milkmaid,” he said with a disbelieving laugh, lost in thought. “A Romani milkmaid. As though we all lived in a painting by a Dutch master. Her father ran the dairy near the mountain house, and she worked with the cows.”
Siobhan didn’t laugh. “And how did you meet?”
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, sending little shocking threads of pleasure through her. When he stopped, he held her hand to his mouth and answered, “One of the cows escaped. She came looking for it.”
He paused, then said, quietly, “It was Shakespearean. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
Siobhan inhaled at the words. “What did she look like?”
“Tall, willowy. Blonde, with perfect pink skin as smooth as cream,” he replied. “Since her coloring was so different from the usual dark of the Romani, I thought my mother would not see it. Not that it would have mattered at all.”
Siobhan could see the woman, young and doe-eyed.
“The moment she looked up at me, dirt on her face, skirts muddy from her search, I wanted to protect her.”
She could see him wanting that. “Did she require protecting?”
“It felt that way,” he said, lost in the memory. “There was something precious about her. Something that felt nearly breakable.” He met her gaze. “I wanted to marry her from the start.”
She wasn’t prepared for the hot thread of jealousy that wove through her at the words. Nor was she prepared for the flood of questions that came on their heels. “And?”
“We spent the summer together, meeting in secret, hiding everything from our respective fathers. We passed messages through the stable boys, one in particular, whom I paid handsomely for his trouble. She was terrified her father would discover us.”
Siobhan nodded.
“Terrified enough that she began to beg me to marry her in secret. She wanted us to run, over the border to Austria, to find the nearest blacksmith and have an anvil marriage. Get it done.” He stopped. “I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was going to be the king, and I didn’t want it to be secret. When I took a wife, I wanted it to be in front of all the world. All of Lektenstaten. I’d make her my princess. She’d be by my side when I ruled. There was no shame in that, and I wouldn’t allow us to be a scandal. I loved her.”
“You’d make her your wife,” Siobhan said softly. The titles were nothing of importance compared to that. Compared to the idea of living with him, as his partner, forever.
Siobhan’s heart ached at the words, with sorrow for him, and with jealousy of this girl who had stolen his heart so long ago.
“Of course, I was young and stupid. And tilting at windmills.” He laughed humorlessly. “I thought as I was going to be king, it was time for my mother to put away her stupid thoughts on title and blue blood, and accept there was a place for love in the world.”
Siobhan could feel the frustration in him, in the stiffness of his chest and the quickness of his breath, the way the cords of his neck stood prominently, revealing a clenched jaw, a grim mouth.
She couldn’t help her little sad smile at the words, her heart in her throat. Of course, there was a place for love in the world. But the aristocracy was a world far beyond normal, and there, Romani milkmaids didn’t become duchesses. It was as though he heard her thoughts.
“I was young, and I’d never been told no in my life.”
Her brows rose. “And had the name and arrogance to prove it.”
He did laugh then, a little chuckle that reminded her, however tragic the tale became, he was here now. Hale and hers.
“I thought no one told a King no.”
Silence fell between them, and she grew cold, knowing instinctively the tale was about to turn.
“I marched her in here, without telling my mother I was bringing someone
with me. I presented Lilian to her like the petulant child I was.”
It had not occurred to him previously he’d recreated the events with Siobhan. “I stood with her in that same hall, in front of my mother and I introduced her as my future bride.”
Good Lord. At least when he’d done it to Siobhan, she’d been prepared for it to turn sour. But the poor young girl knew nothing better. Who had no doubt been quaking in her slippers at meeting the imposing Regent Princess of Lektenstaten. “What happened?”
“My mother eviscerated her. I’ve never seen a woman treat another so poorly, milkmaid or not.” Angus shook his head, his eyes unfocused, staring into the past. “Her words…Lilian was cheap and just willing to marry me for my title and wealth. Then she asked a thoroughly humiliated and crying girl to give us some privacy, showing her onto the balcony. I ran to my room to retrieve the ring I had planned to give her. And when I returned…she…I—” he choked on his words.
“You were a child,” she held his hands tighter and tighter, until her knuckles were white.
He shook his head again. “I wasn’t a child, though. I was almost eighteen, old enough to rule a country. To sit in the bank presidency. She trusted in me.”
He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers.
Siobhan had never heard anything so horrible in her life. Tears streamed down her face as she watched him finish his story.
“Catriona told me that Lilian had fallen off the balcony to her death.”
She reached for him then, taking his handsome, shadowed face in her hands and turned him to face her, waiting until he met her gaze, until she was certain he was paying attention. “It was an accident.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
The confession devastated her, and suddenly she understood so much about him. “You were a child, and you were doing what you thought best. What you thought right. You didn’t kill her.”
“Fuck.” The curse came soft and shocking. “I didn’t, but it feels as though as I did. And it hurts still.”
She did the only thing she could think to do ease the ache in her heart. In his. She drew his face to hers, and kissed him, at first soft and tentative, as though he might push her away at any moment, as though she was intruding.
But he didn’t, he closed his eyes and let himself be soothed.
His next words couldn’t have surprised Siobhan more. “I told my mother and my aunt they are not welcome to live in Lenox Palace anymore.”
“Angus…”
He pulled her closer, cinched his arms as tight around her as he could. “I don’t want you sad; I don’t want you hurt. And I will do anything in my power to keep you happy and safe, Angel.”
He wanted Siobhan with a deep yearning he couldn’t have explained. He almost told himself he loved her.
He fell asleep with his arm around her and woke the next morning in the same position.
‘If I fall in love with you, would it be an anathema?’ Her words came back to him as the emerald between her breasts winked at him in the early light. And if she doesn’t?
He shook his head to clear it of such an unsettling thought.
They had been together for months already. There was time for love to come. No need to rush at all.
From the bed, Siobhan watched as he went to his dressing room to change. Her fingers went to the necklace and fingered the green drop resting in the middle of her breasts.
She was right. The emerald had been a bribe. Not for her favors; he wasn’t a man who would pay for sex.
Siobhan was sure he wanted her to care for him—perhaps, love him?—and that was his way of asking for it.
36
Lenox Palace Park
Sunday, April 17, 2016
3:00 p.m.
Protected by the blood-red rhododendron and white azalea bushes, she smiled as Siobhan and Fiona passed a few feet away from her.
The first time in weeks the guards had allowed her to walk unprotected enough that she could strike. All she had to do was wait until Fiona moved out of the way.
She would dispatch the enemy, then she would return to fix everything.
She knew Angus might suffer a time of mourning, but once the soil turned cold upon his fiancée’s grave, he would find solace and sweet passion in another woman’s arms—a woman who would fit his rank, his education, not some illegitimate, low-born waitress, someone she was going to make sure he met. And that someone would kill him.
And if that didn’t work, she had other plans. Many plans, schemed minute detail by minute detail.
It was taking longer than she thought, but she would not fail.
Siobhan should have been tired from spending the afternoon wandering every inch of Lenox Palace park.
When she’d finally consented to return to the palace’s gardens, Fiona had wilted, saying they must have walked twenty miles, and she had to get ready for tonight’s reception.
Even her elite guard had looked a little peaked, but her pent-up frustration had only burned off some of her frustrated energy.
Just what is your problem, Siobhan Faulkner?
She shrugged and sighed before forlornly advising a nearby bush, “I seem to have a bit of a thing for the man.”
The flowers nodded sagely in the soft spring breeze and Siobhan willingly poured out her soul upon her rapt, silent audience. “But I can’t understand a blasted thing about the man. First, he wants me—I mean, come on, he kidnapped me and threatened to take my—our baby—to keep me here. Then he schooled me in the finest forays of sex. I knew nothing, but I was a virgin! What did he expect? And I have been an eager student.”
When the flowers didn’t accuse her of being too forward, she summoned a truly pitiful sigh and continued, “And then he saves my life, turns paranoid, put those brutes up to following me around every single minute.”
Siobhan plucked irritably at one of the rhododendrons, rolling it in her fingers. “Even if I was in any kind of real danger, it was his fault to begin with. Now, he refuses to take me places with him. And if that’s not enough, he just up and leaves without so much as a fare-thee-well, my princess, leaving a note saying I should be ready to host a reception for the winning party!”
She looked over her shoulder at the men patiently waiting a few feet away and back at the flowers.
“A reception!” She had spent the whole morning locked with Ewan, Kerr, and half of the staff to organize everything and, although Ewan assured her everything would go smoothly, she was sure it was going to be a huge failure. “I don’t think he quite understands the full necessity of clear and timely communication. Timely meaning now. How long does this voting take, anyway?”
Her phone buzzed with Ewan’s incoming text, informing her the royal hairdresser was waiting for her in her rooms. She turned to the flowers one more time. “Wish me luck.”
Lektenstaten Parliament
5:45 p.m.
Angus watched the buzz about the room as the final vote was read, seeing the anger on some faces, and elation on others. They had done it. The Romani Party was now formally represented by their new Prime Minister.
He stepped down from his perch and made his way to Mircea, who was receiving congratulations from his supporters.
Times are going to change. Angus doubted they would be for the worse. No, he felt perhaps this was the turning point that was needed, one that would bring about peace amongst the parties. “Congratulations,” he held out his hand to the newly elected Prime Minister. “I wish you well on your journey.”
Mircea looked down at his hand before he placed his in Angus’s, giving him a firm shake. “I thank you, Your Majesty. This has been a long time coming.”
“That it has,” Javert replied from Mircea’s side, his expression smug but grateful. “There is much work to be done but I imagine we are up to the challenge.”
Angus chuckled. “You will need support, that is a guarantee. Prime Minister can be very lonely at times.”
Mircea smiled as he looked
at Angus. “And I can count on your support dear friend?”
Angus gave him a smile. “Depends on the topic.”
Mircea laughed, Javert joining him as Angus walked away, greeting those that he came in contact with. No, Mircea would not have it easy the first few months, but he knew his friend was strong and would withstand the controversy that would no doubt follow. Once it all died down, though, the rest of the country and the world would see what Mircea could do.
6:30 p.m.
She gathered up her purse and took one long look in the mirror, feeling a mixture of glee and sadness at what would happen this evening. This evening she would complete her mission, make right everything that was wrong with this country and with the dragon that haunted her at night. Mircea was in a position of power now, the Prime Minister that would change the way the world saw the Romani people. Her people were cared for and she could only rejoice in that fact.
But there were still loose threads to tie up, ones that would make all her years of sacrifice come to reality.
Tonight, it would happen.
She pulled out the letter from her desk and sat it on her pillow for when they came to look for her. In that letter, she had taken the time to explain the need to do what she was going to do and why it would affect the future of Lektenstaten—its rightful future that had been put on hold for so many years.
When the sun came up tomorrow, there would be grief and hurt, pain and sorrow, but she would be rejoicing on the other side.
For tonight, her dreams and her nightmares would become a reality.
Lenox Palace
6:45 p.m.
Angus watched from the window as a line of cars began to form on the outside of the palace gates, lining for inspection.
It had seemed only fitting to have a celebration party at the palace for Mircea, to show his support to the new Prime Minister, and wipe out any thoughts he was against the change. No, he embraced the change that was about to happen.