“If this is about Siobhan…”
“This is not about her.” She waved a hand in the air as uninvited, she took a seat in one of the armchairs. “This is about something I should have told you about a long time ago, but was too proud to do so.”
That got his attention as she wanted. Angus crossed to the other armchair and sat. “What could be so important to bring you all the way from your royal friends in London almost three days after the attack?”
His mother licked her lips and fell silent. Her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, before she said in a small voice, “Javert is your older half-brother.”
Thirty-seven years of near-indifference from the woman, and then this? Angus let out a bark of laughter. “What nonsense is this?”
She sighed heavily. “This is not nonsense.”
“So, you had him and put him up for adoption when my father offered you money to have me?”
She drew herself up stiffly. Little blooms of pink touched her cheeks. “What kind of woman do you think I am?”
“A cold woman who never gave an ounce of love to her son.”
Her nostrils flared; he almost thought she might stamp her foot and paw the ground, like the bull that had attacked Siobhan. But, she simply turned her head away.
She launched into a tale he had never heard before, one that involved the woman that tried to kill him, the brother he never knew about, his father, Augustus, and grandfather, Maximus.
Without looking at him, Catriona told Angus how Diamanta was his father’s mistress and the love of his life, even when he was married to his first wife. How when Augustus was widowed, Diamanta purposely let herself get pregnant and demanded Augustus finally marry her, which he, a man totally in love, agreed to.
And then the tale turned horrific, even as told in her cold, unemotional voice: How his grandfather ordered Diamanta’s whole family killed in a disguised attack, and Augustus, heartbroken, and thinking Diamanta was dead, agreed to married Catriona, for the sake of the kingdom. How a few days before the wedding, he had discovered Diamanta was alive in Switzerland and had bore him a son, Javert. But when confronted with the possible loss of his fortune, Augustus had balked and married Catriona, never contacting Diamanta or Javert again, and also never touching his new wife, and living his life as if she didn’t exist.
It didn’t seem possible.
“So, there you have it,” her voice trembled slightly. “Our family is full of skeletons, which must be kept in the dark, under a tight lock.”
“Tight lock,” he repeated.
There was a reason they’d kept their conversations to inane niceties up until this point. There was no way to talk about anything else without bitterness.
They had no common past to draw on, almost no shared acquaintances. His mother had spent more time visiting her lovers and friends than she had stayed with him when, as a child, he came to spend the holidays in Lektenstaten. And she’d chosen to do it. He might have forgiven her at one time. At one time, he would have forgiven her anything.
Angus stared at her for a moment. “Why have you told me this, then? What do you want me to do with all this information?”
She stared back at him. “I would tell you what to do, but I suspect you will not listen to a word I say.”
That, they could agree on. He had long lost the need to listen to her since she had tried to rid him of Siobhan. Their relationship—if one could call what they had a relationship—would be strained for the rest of their lives.
Knowing now what he did of his father, it seemed unfair to hold her to account for leaving the man. But while she’d pushed her husband away in hatred, she could have chosen to give love to her son, to him.
And she didn’t.
“You must keep this secret. Destroy all evidence. Think of what this will do to our family, to be tied to that murderess and her bastard son.” His mother stood, her back ramrod straight. “Your older bastard of a brother.”
Angus nearly sprang to his feet, his temper rising at that. But shouting had never gotten him anywhere. Slowly, he exhaled his anger, letting it flow from him until the serenity of ice returned. “Get out.”
“I see you have made up your mind.” She raised her chin, her eyes hard as glass. “See that you don’t lose your head, Angus Au—”
“You have one hour to leave this country. From this day on, you are persona non-grata in Lektenstaten,” Angus cut her off with a look that could freeze the brightest of fires.
She gasped. “You can’t—”
“I am king, am I not? At least, for the moment, and that means I can,” he told her in an even voice and looked at his watch. “Fifty-nine minutes.”
Lekten cathedral church bell began to chime the nine o’clock hour; and it was joined by other churches to the left and right—a chorus of bells that seemed all the more eerie within the quiet grip of the mist. For whom the bells toll?
The implications were clear. Javert could demand to be recognized and Angus would gladly do so, in fact, he would propose it to Javert at first opportunity; but then he could create difficulties, perhaps demand his rightful place as the older brother in the Braxton-Lenox family. He could demand to be crowned king.
The bells stopped, their echoes waning, and left a curious silence in their wake, one louder than the quiet in the countryside.
Despite what could happen, Javert deserved to know the truth, to have the same rights he had. And if possible, they could establish a friendship, and maybe he would be interested in a place alongside Angus.
Angus had always hoped for a family of his own—first imagining his father more caring than he was, then hoping his mother would love him.
When he’d realized how futile his daydreams were, his wants had shifted outward.
It had started so subtly he couldn’t pinpoint the moment. He’d had daydreams in which Ludwig was his brother, and he would accompany Ludwig home during the summer holidays.
He’d imagined spending entire days together, talking and playing and boxing and fishing and doing whatever it was brothers did.
When Ludwig’s parents visited the school, and they did a lot, they’d rush forward, arms outstretched, and grab up Ludwig. And Angus would watch the ungrateful wretch scowl and complain, “Stop, Mama,” and, “Don’t kiss me in front of the fellows!”
All that fuss, just because they hadn’t seen him in a handful of weeks.
Angus could only stare dumbfounded from the other side of the room, a lump of sadness and jealousy in his throat, blocking him from asking to be taken with them for whatever they planned to do.
He understood there’d be no lazy family summers, no man-to-man talks, no special sweets for him. He told himself it was fine to have Ludwig as his best friend.
And it was.
All this time and Javert is my kin—my brother! Angus looked up to the sky.
The waxing gibbous moon and the stars gleamed through the fringe of clouds, twinkling for the king and peasants alike. He looked up until the clouds covered the moon and cut out all the light.
He couldn’t change the past, but he sure as hell could change the future.
40
Saturday, April 23, 2016
7:00 p.m.
In between fevered dreams, for what felt like days, she’d heard Angus speaking to her. With his voice growing thick, he’d pleaded, “Angel, don’t leave me.”
Other times, he’d snapped and threatened her. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Then, as if he’d worked to calm his tone, he’d added, “So you’d best…you’d best stay with me.”
She knew he was constantly there, was aware of his movements and comprehended his words, but she couldn’t seem to open her heavy eyelids or speak. Dragon.
"What?" Angus bent his ear near Siobhan’s lips, sure she had mumbled something, but if she had, she didn’t repeat it.
He studied her pale face, feeling useless, waiting for her to wake up. He was a man of action, not of waiting, and it tore him up to be
so out of control.
He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t go through that kind of agony. He needed Siobhan, desperately. She was his air, his life, his very heart beat.
He pressed the button, calling the nurse.
"Come in," he called, when a knock sounded on the door a minute later.
But it was Ewan bringing in a pale Javert.
“Your Majesty.” Javert nodded with his head. “I would have bowed but...”
“Nonsense,” Angus rose from his chair beside Siobhan’s bed and motioned for Javert to take a seat on the other side of the room where there was a set of sofa and armchairs. “You saved my life. I am forever in debt to you.”
Javert chuckled. “That’s a bit much, even for you.”
Angus cleared his throat and added, “By the way, my name is Angus Augustus, or just Angus.”
For a moment, Javert looked at him bewildered, and then he cackled, before he gasped in pain, putting his hand on his shoulder and groaning, “God, it hurts.”
“Well, I must insist,” Angus said, even if that request made him look all the more desperate for intimacy. “Since you pushed me out of the way and took a bullet for me. I doubt anyone would say that was not an accurate statement.”
Had Javert not acted so fast, Siobhan would be making plans for his funeral. He looked back over his shoulder at his fiancée sleeping too quiet on the bed, and corrected himself. Or rather, she would be dead. He nearly missed out on his future with her, seeing the child they had created.
“Fine. Angus,” Javert finally said, running a hand over his face. “I saw the glint of the gun and moved on instinct, but I wasn’t planning on taking a bullet for you. Did you get the culprits?”
“Yes,” Angus sighed. “It is, was, your mother.”
“My mother was the attempted assassin? What kind of madness are you speaking?” Javert shouted, and then it dawned on him that Angus had used the verb in the past tense. “My mother is…dead?”
“I’m sorry,” Angus said quietly. “She killed herself using the same poison she put in Siobhan’s drink.”
Javert collapsed back into the armchair. His whole life had just changed. His mother was not only dead, but had tried to kill the king. He was stunned, unable to speak.
Angus told him everything. How Diamanta had been wronged by their father and returned to the country to get her revenge three years ago.
Not everything really; he didn’t tell his brother their father knew all the time he had another son and had not looked to contact him, or even offered money to help in his education through an anonymous source. Nor did he tell Javert how Diamanta had made sure there were no heirs for him and Innes, selling her face creams poisoned with hormones; and when Innes stopped buying the creams, how Diamanta had tampered with Innes’s saddle.
The woman was clearly addled in the head, her need to ruin Angus’s life overshadowing her common sense, but she had been Javert’s mother, and was desperate to make him king.
“I’m sorry. I wish it was not true,” he said to Javert, who had gone pale. “I am trying to keep this from reaching the press.” He didn’t know how long he would be able to keep it a secret, but it was the least he could do.
“I must find out why,” Javert stated, standing before weaving a bit in his stance.
“Sit,” Angus said, steadying his brother firmly but gently. “I haven’t finished.”
“There is more?” Javert asked, though it was not really a question. He didn’t know if he could take any more.
Angus took Diamanta’s letter from the breast pocket of his suit and handed it to Javert. “I didn’t open it and you can read it in privacy.”
Javert looked at him and Angus saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Now, Javert…Brother…” Angus took a deep breath. “I would be honored to recognize you as my older brother.”
The nurse Angus had called entered the room as soon as Javert was gone. “Your Majesty? You called?”
“More than an hour ago,” he mumbled. “What if it were an emergency?”
“Sir, we are monitoring her vitals on the computer at the station. She was...fine,” the nurse finished lamely as Angus gave her an icy stare.
“You must do something…more.”
“Sir, we are doing our best.”
“It’s not good enough!” he roared in answer, then cursing all the doctors and nurses in some of the vilest language Siobhan had ever heard, he kicked the nurse out of the room.
A door slammed, and a cool breeze whistled over Siobhan from the impact.
Finally, her eyelids didn’t feel too heavy to open. She blinked against the light for several moments. She perceived his form standing near the bed and waited for her vision to focus just to remember someone must have taken her contacts.
Angus leaned his forehead against the window by her bed and raked his fingers through his disheveled hair. “You can’t do this—take my goddamned heart and then leave me! You think I will not follow?”
He sounded like a wounded animal in an unparalleled amount of pain and anguish.
“I’m sure you will,” she croaked, after pushing the oxygen mask away.
His shoulders tensed. He whirled around, seeming to loom over the bed.
Siobhan stared up in shock: his hair was uncombed and his beard, growing.
She blinked. “You…you didn’t have a beard…before…”
He froze as his hand shot up to his chin and he was stunned to meet a beard. His brows drew together.
Her tongue probed her parched lips unconsciously.
“You must be thirsty,” he suddenly said, dashing to a nearby pitcher. When he poured, the crystal pitcher clinked against the glass.
“How are you feeling?” Angus walked back to her, scowling at his trembling hand as he helped her drink.
“My glasses? Are they here?” she asked as soon as she had swallowed the refreshing water. And when he gave them to her and she put them on, her shock doubled.
His shirt was wrinkled and the sleeves rolled up, his eyes were bloodshot and had a wild look. He looked at her with such yearning, as if he wanted to launch himself at her, but he seemed to force himself to back away from her.
“What happened?” she whispered stunned.
“It’s a long story—”
“No, Angus, what happened to you?”
He let out a sigh and put the glass on the bedside table and sat back in the armchair he had spent seven days in a row waiting in.
Leaning his elbows on his knees, he let his head fall for a moment, before raising it again and fixing her with his golden eyes. “You happened.”
“I…happened?” she repeated dumbfound. “Care to explain?”
He rose from the chair and paced away. “This is like a sickness I feel for you. Woman, you’ve got me tied up in knots. I don’t know up from down anymore, and can think of nothing but you.”
Angus appeared so tormented she couldn’t speak.
“If I see something interesting, my first thought is if you would find it so as well. Foods I like, I want you to taste. And all the while I’m wondering what the bloody hell is wrong with me to be like this. It’s just…not right. I have never in my life wanted to put someone else’s needs before my own like this.”
She hadn’t been expecting that. Well.
“And the last reason is: You’re here. Here,” he repeated, taking her hand and drawing it against his chest, right above his pounding heartbeat. “In my heart. Somehow you crashed your way into it when I wasn’t looking. The same way that kid crashed into me, I suppose. But you’re here now, inside.” He sat on the edge of the bed and gingerly took her in his arms. “The truth is I’d rather march into Hell with you, than bask in Heaven without you.”
“That was quite nicely said,” she whispered.
“You think so?” He smiled hesitantly at her.
She smiled back, nodding. “Did you practice it while I was lying here?”
“No.
” He pulled back as if offended, just to lean down in bed with her and stroke his fingertips over her face. “Can you possibly comprehend how much I love you?”
Siobhan opened her mouth but no sounds came out. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s a first,” he chuckled.
“But you can say it again.” Siobhan smiled. “I think I’d rather listen to you explain it a lot more because I won’t be able to stop telling you all the reasons why I love you.”
“It might take years and bore you to tears to have me listing all the reasons I love you.”
“I’ve survived worse,” she told him with a nonchalant shrug.
“Yes, I suppose you have.” He grimaced, and hearing the fright in her voice, he pulled her into his arms and melded his lips to hers. Just to stop and slowly crane his neck back to stare at her. “Did you just say you love me?”
“Oh, Dragon…I love you so much.”
“That’s also another first,” Angus said roughly, holding her closer. “Say it again, Lieben, please.”
As though she could deny him anything. She cupped his face in her hands and brushed a kiss to his lips. “I love you. I love you, so much.”
“I don’t think I will ever tire of listening to these words.” Softness flickered in his golden eyes, and his hand went to her belly. His fingertips caressing the skin, so warm and gentle that she closed her eyes.
And just then the baby kicked in response. His fingers twitched lightly, and he gasped.
This was a really good sign after all the bad that had happened. After so many days watching as she recovered, being this close, and feeling their baby gave him a rush greater than securing a multimillion-dollar deal.
“Yes,” she told him softly. “It kicked.”
“He.”
“How do you know we are going to have a boy, Dragon? It could be a girl!”
“Doctor Singh was worried about…the effects of the poison and he did tons of blood tests and ultrasounds to ensure everything is fine,” he said with a grin.