Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Unsurprisingly, we reach our destination in good time, the expanse of green countryside a salve to the spirit. James rolls his SUV along the gravel driveway to the private parking.
“Auggie’s coming up tomorrow,” James informs me as he parks by a hedge. “And his beau.”
I rub my eyes under my sunglasses.
“You alright, old thing?”
“I think I left my stomach somewhere as you ricocheted past Heathrow on our way to the castle. You’re a maniac, man,” I tell him.
“Nonsense. A little fresh air and food will put you right again.” He’s unfazed. “Let’s go.”
Getting out of the SUV is a relief. Stretching, I rub my back, then go to the boot of the SUV and take my suitcase from James and my tuxedo hanging in its garment bag. He follows suit and takes the lead, walking to the private entry to the castle.
We’re soon met by a pair of footmen who insist on taking our things up to our rooms.
“Right, then,” says James as he claps his hands. “Let’s crash the kitchen for a sandwich, then let’s go outside for some sun before getting to business.”
Before long, after startling the staff in the kitchens, we’re very quickly presented with sandwiches and bottles of beer.
“Truly, we can carry these things ourselves,” James insists to the staff as we gather up our lunch.
Following James, we’re soon seated on a garden bench in the sunshine, overlooked by the castle and with a great view of the East Courtyard gardens.
The sandwiches do a lot to restore me. It’s a warm spring day, which is a great preview for the days ahead.
We mostly eat in silence, hunger hitting us both harder than we thought.
James peers at me, leaning back on the bench. “Well? Better?”
“Better,” I confirm, turning slightly to look at him over my beer. “You?”
“Always better after food. Now… the plan.” His gaze is rapt on me. “Edward arrives tomorrow afternoon. He’s aware of your situation.”
“What—exactly—about my situation is he aware of?” It never hurts to be too careful with James. His capacity to go rogue is unbounded. I’ve been accused of the same, but it’s hearsay.
“That you need a reputational makeover for your future and to be seen with an eligible and respectable man. We’ve been over this,” he explains patiently.
“Does he know… it’s fake?” I try carefully. “Hate to lead him on or anything.”
“He’s aware.” James gives me a serious look, appraising. “But if something more develops, I’m all for it.”
I open my mouth and shut it. How much he suspects about me and Stef is a mystery. Aside from the obvious, of course, that we were in Greece together. So he suspects enough. And he also must know Stef’s secret and is making an effort. To protect him.
From me.
Something heavy settles into my chest. The feeling that I’m fucking up Stef’s life as well as my own. Which is definitely not what I want. After all, I want Stef to be happy and ideally live who he is out in the open. But as someone else caught in a complicated situation, I get it.
Even if I don’t like that I can’t be part of it one bit. This party would be way more fun with him here.
Not trusting myself to speak quite then, I swallow hard and nod.
“Good.” He claps my arm. “My cousin is an excellent person and very discreet, for the record.”
“Noted.” Hesitating, I scan the gardens, trying to shake off the bittersweet feeling that’s settled over me. “And what, exactly, have you told him about me?”
“That you’re charming and funny and social. Only good things.”
My shoulders relax a little.
“Alright?” he asks.
“Yes, alright.”
James nods, looking pleased. If only I could be so carefree. “Excellent. Also, Elsie will be by later to join us after dinner. I was thinking we could all watch a film to relax ahead of tomorrow night.”
“What about Frankie?” I ask at last. “When does he arrive?”
There’s a fleeting shadow over his face. “Tomorrow. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Have you talked? What’s happened?”
“Only in a very ineffective way,” James assures me, shrugging. “A lot of how are you, fine—fine, me too.”
I laugh. “Well, as long as it’s ineffective.” Then I give him a level look. “C’mon, dish. It’s Frankie. You love Frankie.”
His expression falls. “I do love Frankie. Loving Frankie is not the problem.”
“And Frankie loves you?” I prompt.
“He does.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He’s… quite possibly not having the in-love kind of love anymore. He doesn’t think. He’s not entirely sure.”
“Shit. I’m sorry…” My lips press together.
James glances away, clearing his throat. “To be determined. Now. Meanwhile, I have plans. Let’s go meet Charlene and go over the setup for the party.”
The next afternoon, I stand in my guest room, looking critically at myself in the mirror. I’m dressed to kill in my designer tux, perfectly tailored, and I adjust my bow tie. My hair is styled, earrings in, clean-shaven. They want a tidied-up prince—I’m going to deliver.
I take a few selfies, practicing my most disarming grins. Less the restrained prince smile, but more my irreverent natural state of being. I choose the best photo and text it to Stef without a message. Then I put my phone on silent, run my fingers through my hair.
Hesitating before I go downstairs for James’ birthday celebrations to kick off in earnest, I post on my Instagram another one of my tux selfies, captioned #princelife after Auggie.
Who, looking at his Instagram, has a post one hour old with him and Thomas looking fierce in their black-tie apparel, photo clearly taken by someone else.
I can’t help feeling pride at how Auggie’s come out of his shell.
I can only hope Stef can do the same one day.
Shit. Stop obsessing about Stef. It’s not helping you or him.
I head down to the pre-dinner drinks in the reception room, following the trail of balloons leading the way along the corridor. Mind over matter, as they say. Also—need to have a word with them, whoever they are.
There’s already a respectable crowd gathering for champagne and canapés in a lavish drawing room with detailed coffered ceilings, rich red wallpaper, and gilt architectural details.
The music is already thumping, and people are having a good time, laughing over drinks.
James, who looks entirely in his element, is surrounded by a knot of people.
There’s no sign of Frankie, as far as I can tell.
While I’m taking stock for a long moment at the side of the room, helping myself to the offered champagne from a server, someone clears their throat beside me.
“Prince Theodor?”
I turn, putting on my most charming expression. “Yes? Oh, Your Grace—it’s such a thrill to meet you at last.”
Duke Edward is taller than I expected, eye level with me. He’s fair and has a warm smile. And he’s got to be at least forty, maybe even forty-five, if I had to guess. Older than James’ marketing efforts. Let’s see if he’s as dull as James made him out to be.
He looks relieved. “Oh, good. I didn’t want to mix you up with any other Prince Theodors here tonight.”
“Unless I have a doppelg?nger, which would be an amazing turn of events, I think I’m the only Prince Theodor here tonight,” I tell him conspiratorially.
“Please, call me Edward. Or Eddie, if you’d rather. And let’s dispense with the most formal of formalities this evening.”
“Deal. I’m Theo.” We shake hands. I sip my champagne, considering him. “And you’re James’ cousin?”
“Second cousin, actually. Also, I can moonlight as a bouncer. I played rugby once upon a time before I messed up my back.” He smiles ruefully. “Couldn’t resist a good scrum.”
“Right, okay. That can come in handy tonight, knowing James.” I chuckle because keeping James in check is a full-time job. “Especially with John also on the premises somewhere.”
“Exactly,” he agrees. “Double trouble.”
“So, how’d you get into rugby? It doesn’t seem like a top pick for a royal. Compared to other sports. Like say… cricket or equestrian.”
Edward smiles and shrugs. “I was influenced by friends at college to try out. Ended up playing as a Cambridge Blue for the rugby union. It was something to get me out of myself.”
I nod, impressed. “Right, okay. James told me something about stamp collecting or some such.”
He chuckles. “We do have a family stamp collection. But that was more my father than me. What else has James told you about me?”
“That you’re a duke.”
“True enough, I suppose I am. And you, clearly, are a prince.”
“That’s me.” I shake my head. Better not think about my future either tonight because that’ll pop the party spirit in a hurry. “So what else did you do at college aside from playing violent games?”
Edward laughs easily. “I studied business and eventually ended up with my MBA. It’s very useful for running the estate.”
“Practical, yeah.” I nod sagely.
“And you?”
My lips twitch. “Fashion merchandising.”
He nods thoughtfully, considering me. “You are very well-dressed, it has to be said.”
“Thanks. Though it’s not nearly as practical.”
“We all have different interests,” he says tactfully.
My phone buzzes then in my pocket. “Sorry, let me just check this.”
Of course, it’s Stefanos. On the notification, there’s a thumbnail-sized selfie. I don’t dare open his message.