Chapter 12 – Rowan
ROWAN
“Oncle Rowan, watch me jump off the high board!” Phaedra calls out, her hands waving wildly through the air, her long blonde hair wet and clinging to her small body.
“I’m watching, my darling.”
Without a second of fear, she jumps, plummeting like a knife, straight down into the water, where she slices through it and comes up with a jubilant grin.
I clap for her, then Sabrina and Zayer get in on the attention-seeking. It’s all Oncle Rowan this and Oncle Rowan that.
“Watch me, watch me!” Zayer cries, his arms flailing, fighting against the restraint of the swim vest he’s in.
Sebastian and Althea are sitting at the table in the corner under the umbrella, deep in conversation while continuously throwing side-eyes at the children in the water.
All three are excellent swimmers, and Zayer is in his floaty. Plus, I’m here.
Poor Bellamy had a bad headache this morning and didn’t even make it down for breakfast. Marcella brought it up to her in bed since that’s what Emily would have done for her. That’s what Sebastian and Althea are discussing. Help for Bellamy, who is an I can do it all myself kind of woman.
I respect that about her, but she genuinely can’t do it all by herself.
I haven’t seen Marcella in two days. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been tracking her on the cameras, because I have been, but I haven’t been in her presence again since the other morning. I can’t be alone with her. It’s become my new rule I promise to heed. I get near her, and I react.
I flirt, I tease, I prowl. The one thing I haven’t done is touch, but I’ve come so close. Hell, I fucking smelled her hair when I whispered in her ear. It has to stop.
She found my drawings. The ones on my desk aren’t anything. They’re just sketches for passing the time.
But the ones in my portfolio are different.
And she saw at least one from my night with Ella.
I got there just as she opened it, and I watched her expression.
The heat and lust that climbed up her face and darkened her eyes.
It got me hard. Almost instantly. I couldn’t help but wonder if it made her wet.
If she imagined that she was the woman on the bed with my fingers and mouth on her cunt or riding my cock until she came.
I taunted her. I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted to pin her to the wall, lift her frumpy gray dress, and touch her the way she had touched my drawings.
So since that moment, I haven’t been near her.
Watching her is simply because I don’t trust her and nothing more, though all I’ve seen is her doing her job. I also checked the video from my night with Ella. It’s not something I’ve done in a few months, but I did look at it for comparison.
There are similarities there.
The slope of their noses and the lift of their chins. The paleness of their skin, though, Marcella has more of a sun-kissed glow to her. But Ella’s face is wider, longer, and the shape of her eyes is different—even different from what I remember.
She looked different than the mental image I have of her, which is odd to me. The image I have is closer to Marcella’s, but then again, I was drunk that night, and memories warp with time like water-logged wood.
“Come swim with us!” Sabrina demands, doing flips underwater as many times as she can before she has to stop to catch her breath.
They’re bored. They haven’t left the palace much since Charlotte.
I know Bellamy is pushing for the summer festival, and I think it’s a good idea too.
Maybe the curse attacks in threes, and now it’s done.
Samil, Bellamy’s father dying, and Charlotte.
My father dying, Desta being taken, and Brea getting sick.
Then again, there’s what happened to Nora. Shit. Fuck if I know how this works, but we can’t stop living either.
I pull off my T-shirt and chuck it onto a nearby lounge chair, kick off my flip-flops, and drop to the edge of the pool before going all the way in.
The water is cool, but not cold, and feels refreshing against the blazing summer sun.
The children take turns swimming up to me, splashing me, and daring me to chase them, which I do.
I become the shark, and they’re the fish.
They’re all smiles, climbing on me and dunking me under the water.
Even Arthur gets in on it, swimming and swirling around the children.
Being with them warms my heart like nothing else.
They have no clue Bellamy was taken by Charlotte. All they were told was that Charlotte had to leave and that, for now, they wouldn’t be getting a new nanny. As much as we can maintain their innocence, I’m in. I don’t like bringing in new people, and something about Marcella is triggering that.
Well, she’s triggering a lot of things in me that I wish she weren’t.
“It would be so cool if we had a waterslide,” Sabrina says, doing twirls in the water.
“A waterslide?” I question.
“Yes.” She swims over and climbs up me until I’m holding her in my arms with her little legs around my chest and back. “A giant one that spins around and around.” She mimics the motion with her hands.
“I want a waterfall,” Phaedra states, getting in on this. “But it has to have a secret grotto behind it.”
I chuckle, shifting Sabrina in my arms so I can brush some of the water back from my face. “How do you know what a grotto is?”
“Mommy and I read it in a book, and she told me what it was. It sounds magical, and I want one. If Sabrina gets a waterslide, I want a grotto.”
“What about you, lad?” I ask Zayer, giving his floaty a push that sends him spinning in circles. “What do you want in the pool?”
“I want more swimming.”
“And you, Arthur?” I question teasingly.
“He wants more swimming too!” Sabrina answers for him. “And the waterslide. He really wants that.”
“I think those are all excellent choices,” I say to them. I give Sabrina a kiss on her forehead and drop her back into the water. “Sebastian, your children are asking for some improvements to be made to the pool.”
He glances up at me, his eyebrows raised, but there’s an amused smile on his lips. “Oh, are they? And what sort of things are they asking for?”
One by one, they start to shout their demands.
Sebastian throws me a what the fuck are you getting me into look, and all I can do is shrug at him.
The pool area is a bit boring. It was built for swimming laps, featuring two diving boards, one high and one standard height.
But that’s it. And if this is where the children will spend most of their days during summers, I don’t think their requests are beyond reason.
“Come now,” I say to him. “I think a waterslide and a waterfall with a grotto would be incredible.”
“Personally, I wouldn’t mind adding in a spa with therapeutic jets.”
Sebastian quirks a brow at Althea, but the woman has never asked for anything in all her years, so if she wants a spa, I think she should have a spa.
I pull myself up and out of the pool, water running down my body and causing gooseflesh to prickle my skin. My hands drag back through my hair, pushing it off my forehead, and I rub the excess water from my eyes as the back door opens and Marcella comes out.
Our eyes instantly lock, but hers don’t stay on mine for long.
They move down my body, noting my wet chest and abs, continuing south to my trunks that are clinging to me.
Cold or not, if she keeps looking at me like that, I’ll be hard in a second with no way to hide it.
A blush stains her cheeks, and she quickly clears her throat and averts her gaze.
For some reason, it drags a smirk to my lips. Glad to know I’m not the only one affected here.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” she begins, coming over to Sebastian. “I was cleaning your study and saw your phone. It buzzed when I picked it up and felt you should have it immediately.”
Sebastian stands, shock all over him. “Thank you. I can’t believe I left it in there.” He takes it from her hand. “Shit,” he hisses. “Bellamy texted twice, and the prime minister rang.”
“Go tend to all of that,” Althea declares. “Rowan and I will stay out here with the children.”
Sebastian nods and briskly heads inside.
I grab a towel from the caddy in the corner and wipe myself down. “Marcella, tell us what you think.”
“Sir?” she questions, turning to me before she can escape back inside. Why can’t she call me Rowan? And why do I care so much that she doesn’t? Because I made Ella call me that. It’s all I can come up with. I never correct the other staff. I’ve never asked them to call me by my first name.
“Sabrina wants a waterslide, Phaedra a waterfall with a grotto, Zayer simply wants more swimming, the good lad that he is, and my lovely aunt would like a spa with therapeutic jets.”
Marcella tilts her head, even as her gaze stays glued to the top of my head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I understand.”
I wrap my towel around my waist and fold my arms over my chest as I move to stand before her. “Do you think we should make these changes to our boring old pool?”
She blinks, perhaps surprised I’m asking or simply uncomfortable with the question. Either way, I want to watch her squirm a bit and see how she reacts.
“It’s not for me to say—”
“Perhaps not, but Emily would have an opinion. I can assure you of that. So I’m interested in yours now that you’re the new Emily.”
Annoyance clouds her eyes, but she does her best to hide it. “I think if you’re able to manage the financial implications of such a renovation, then the children and Lady Althea should have what they want.”
“I agree.” I glance down at Althea. “I don’t want it to come from taxpayer funds. I’ll pay for it.” Lord knows I have plenty through investments and real estate. More than I’ll need for ten lifetimes.
“You’re serious?” Althea throws at me, a serious look on her face.
“Absolutely.” I shake the top of my head, shooting drops of water every which way and managing to get some on Marcella. “My apologies.”
“Not at all, Your Highness.” She wipes her cheek and forehead.
Yeah, Marcella doesn’t like me. That’s fine.
The feeling is mutual, though my dislike merely comes from the fact that I’m stupidly attracted to her and inherently distrustful of her.
She doesn’t like me because I push her buttons and get under her skin.
She most certainly has trouble looking at me.
Is it because of the pictures she found or because I’m essentially half naked?
I don’t know. Either way, I like her reaction a little too much.
“Let’s do it, Aunt. Let’s get an architect or landscape designer or whoever deals with such things and get it going.”
“You don’t want to speak to Sebastian about this first?” Althea challenges, though there is amusement in the curve of her lips and lift of her brows.
I grin. “I will, but you know he won’t say no. The moment the children start to work on him, he’ll be putty in their hands. Same as I am with them.”
“True,” Althea concedes. “It would be nice to make some improvements to the palace. We haven’t done that in quite some years.
Fresh carpet, refinishing the floors, fresh paint, maybe a kitchen upgrade.
” She turns to Marcella. “From a housekeeping standpoint, are there things that would improve the function of the palace?”
Marcella doesn’t like being the center of attention or being asked these things. “I’m sure Mrs. Lids would have a better understanding of that than I would.”
“Yes, but her surgeon told me that she’ll need six to twelve weeks of physical therapy and that full recovery and muscle healing will be closer to three to six months.”
Marcella looks stricken. “I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Is that a problem for you?” I press. “Filling in for her for that length of time?”
She narrows her eyes at me, only to remember herself and return to a servant’s mindset.
It infuriates me. It’s as if she’s hiding who she is and what her real thoughts are.
It only makes me want to push harder, dig deeper.
And I shouldn’t. With any of that. I shouldn’t push, I shouldn’t dig, and I definitely shouldn’t care.
“No, sir. Certainly not. I was just surprised. In that case, I think an updated elevator system would be quite useful. Currently the freight elevator is small and only on one side of the palace, which makes it difficult for staff with large or heavy equipment to get up and down. I feel this may also be useful for Mrs. Lids with her recovery, as well as others with physical disabilities who find stairs or long walks difficult.”
Althea is impressed by this suggestion, and frankly, so am I. It’s thoughtful and conscientious of everyone.
“We need Sebastian for this,” Althea grumbles with a twist of her lips, even as she does something on her laptop and begins typing. “I’m making notes, though. These are all important elements we must address. Anything else you can think of?”
“Honestly, My Lady, and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but much of the electrical, plumbing, and boilers are quite old.”
“Yes,” Althea agrees. “I’ve seen the heating and electric bills for this palace. It’s ancient, but we must modernize it and make it more efficient and sustainable. I wouldn’t complain about better air conditioning either, but now we’re talking a large-scale renovation.”
“Likely worth a discussion and an assessment, and if Sebastian and parliament agree, we should do the lot.”
“Perhaps,” Althea agrees. “I’ll address it with Bellamy and Sebastian this evening. Hopefully Bellamy is feeling better by then.”
“I have to go potty!” Zayer cries from the pool, frantically swimming toward the steps to get out.
“Oh, boy.” I chuckle. “I’m coming, lad. Hold on and hold it. Arthur, you watch the girls.”
I hear a small giggle behind me, the sound tickling my brain and causing a flash of déjà vu. I cast back over my shoulder and see Marcella smiling and covering her mouth, her attention on me. When she notes me looking at her, all amusement dies, and she quickly makes her escape.
I reach Zayer in the pool and haul him out, unsnap his vest from him, wrap him up in a towel, and quickly bring him inside for the bathroom. It’s not near here, so that might be another thing we add to the pool reconstruction.
But her laugh. Marcella’s laugh.
No. I have to stop this already.
Am I so obsessed with a woman I’ll never find or see again that I make everything about her? Because I’d fucking swear I know that laugh. I’d swear it’s the same as Ella’s. But how can that be?