Chapter 10
Iwent to bed thinking Alexandra lost her marbles, but she made more sense with time and context. Her grandmother was vile, yes. But was she as bad as Alexandra made me believe? Alexandra wanted freedom, but why tie herself to me? If she made things up, what did she gain? I gathered she did not want me in a romantic sense—at least not yet—so she wasn’t here to trap me. She didn’t seem like that kind of girl. I mulled it over. The more I laced the threads, the more I believed her.
My father called me at half past six.
“Rikard, we need to talk.”
Never a good sign.
I sat up, cradling my phone against my ear. “What?”
“That bastard who blackmailed me wasn’t supposed to go to the press. Now, he’s gone to the press.”
“Who? What?”
“The woman’s husband.”
I snapped out of my stupor. “He went to the press?”
“He did. They want a comment. Rick, it is only a matter of time before this blows up. I cannot hold them off forever. No more pay-outs—I told you.”
“Give me a few hours,” I said.
“A few hours for what?”
“I have an idea.”
I did not have an idea. I had no idea. However, I needed to buy time.
“I will call you back at noon and we will… well, I don’t know what we will do.”
His voice wasn’t angry. It was frightening. My blood ran cold. A scandal of this magnitude could permanently end the institution. My father wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man who cared about the future of Lundhavn and its people. I still loved her. I probably always would, but this was my family. Even I could admit that I loved them. And, even if I did not care for my father—I did—my poor mother deserved better than what I dealt her.
Panicked, I pulled on enough clothes to go out and walk in the garden. I went back to the stream and sat. I thought about the way that Alexandra’s baby sister had been playing in the stream the day before, I took my shoes off, rolled up my trousers and sat there with my feet in the cold water. I needed something to wake me up.
I dialled her. She answered.
“You cannot call me.”
“Bridget… please do not hang up.”
“This… we cannot… my settlement is at risk?—”
“I know. This is not personal. Or, rather, it’s not an attempt to get back together.”
“Oh,” she said. “Alright. What do you need?”
“Anders went to the press. And he’s telling everyone about it.”
“I cannot control what Anders does.”
“Bridget, it’s my family. I need your help. Please, if not for me just know that this will hurt my mother?—”
“When you and I got lazy and got caught, that was because you swore you would marry me. And now you won’t?—”
“I can’t.”
“He promised not to talk and now he has,” Bridget said. “So what difference does it make?”
“A lot of difference.”
“You were never going to marry me, Rick. You were never all that serious.”
“I was. I love you, Bridget. I do. And it was you who wouldn’t leave him completely.”
“Men like you don’t marry girls like me. Staying afforded me security until I could dump him.”
“Bridge, please,” I begged.
“Goodbye, Rick.”
She hung up.
I slammed my phone into the bank of the creek in frustration, kicking my feet. What could I do? I thought I had leverage—assuming she cared enough to pity me. She didn’t and I had no pull. I wondered if I could pay them off but came up short.
Hearing her voice pained me. I wanted to see her. All the desire to be near her rushed back but I had no hope. She was no longer in the cards. Never again would I hold her or wake up next to her. The finality hit me like a wall. We’d never had the conversation to end it. I’d been radio silent because of my father’s threat to cut me off.
I looked at the grove of trees shading a bench and focused on the sound of leaves flapping. The breeze distracted me momentarily before it dawned on me. A distraction was what I needed. If it could be done, I would pivot. The press wanted to line their pockets with a scandal but maybe they could print money instead with a juicy feel-good story.
Martin stood behind me. I knew he’d heard everything. He was very much aware of the situation.
“What would you do?” I asked. “If the press knew and you needed to spare your entire family the shame, what would you do, Martin?”
“The press work where the money is. If his story is most compelling and they have already paid, it will be imperative they run it. They have families to feed, too. He’s in the wrong. He’s horrible, but the press are just trying to pay their employees. Unless they have a better offer, I know they will run the story. It’s sad. I am sorry.”
“We need to give them a better story, then,” I said.
“Yes, that could work. But what?”
“Well, I am not about to cure cancer, Martin. However, I do have a girl proposing a marriage scheme and what do the press like more than royal weddings?”
“Sir, your brother was just married.”
“And he dated Marie in total secret. There was no lead-up. They barely allowed the press to do anything until the big day. They would be salivating for a royal-marrying-royal set-up, yeah?”
“I suppose that could work, sir.” Martin fought a smile, but I suspected he agreed.
“It will only work if it is the one outlet. We can’t let everyone have an exclusive. It’s an eye for an eye. We give them an even juicier exclusive, right?”
“That makes sense, sir.”
I was elated. I dialled my father.
“I have a proposition,” I said. “For the press. Whichever outlet has the proof. Is it only the one?”
“Yes. It is an exclusive. They paid him handsomely.”
“Then we need to guarantee we have something that can bring in more money.”
“We just had a royal wedding. While I’d like to believe that your brother was going to produce an heir shortly, it could… be awhile. I wouldn’t bank on that.”
“Could we not sell them another royal wedding and let them break the scandal of an engagement?”
“Plant it?”
“More—offer them an exclusive look into a love story-turned-wedding. My affair is well done and over with. But, if I was falling for another woman and about to marry into another royal family—fairytale and all that—it could be juicy.”
“Are you about to marry into another family?”
“I could be?”
“Do you get on with Alexandra? Because you swore up and down the girl was unappetising.”
“I enjoy her company. We have plans to go out riding shortly.”
“Really? That is good.”
“I can make it work if it will spare you and Mamma the humiliation, Pappa.”
“And you haven’t angered her?”
“No,” I lied.
I had but she was willing to put it away and accept me if I otherwise left her alone.
“I will float the idea. Is Alexandra comfortable with this?”
“She will be, yes,” I answered.
“I will see if it works.” Father sounded suspicious, but there were no easy answers.
I sat, wondering where I went wrong with my life and if this was what I had to look forward to—a sham marriage, press coverage to cover my affair with a married woman, and a move to another country. It was terrible. I could only blame myself, though. My poor decisions landed me here.
I pulled my shoes on and disappeared to my room, hearing no more from my father. Soon, Martin appeared.
“Sir, breakfast is being prepared in the kitchen. Will you take your meal here or in the dining room?”
I wanted to have breakfast here, but that would appear antisocial. Now, more than ever, I needed to impress Alexandra with how wonderful I was. I had no room for error. I needed her to marry me and go along with the press scheme.
“In the dining room,” I answered.
“Follow me, sir,” a footman said.
I walked to the family dining room and was introduced, but Alexandra was nowhere to be found. I encountered Celeste and several men she introduced as her courtiers.
“Will Her Majesty be joining us?” I asked.
“The girl will not be joining us,” Celeste answered.
The way she flippantly referred to Alexandra as “the girl” annoyed me. Like it or not, Alexandra was a queen. Despite this regency and through no fault of her own, she was the monarch. She deserved the respect. I didn’t understand how Celeste squared an arranged marriage to a man of nearly thirty by referring to her granddaughter as “the girl”.
“Oh. Well, that’s a shame. I was hoping to make plans with her for later,” I said.
“Plans? I must remind you, Your Royal Highness, that her reputation is sterling,” a male courtier said.
“Lord William, it’s alright,” the Dowager Queen said. “Well, depending on his intent.”
“I wanted to take her out on a hack, as I indicated. If we are to be serious about this, I would like to get to know her better. She wants the same. We discussed it on our short walk yesterday,” I explained. “She’s a sweet woman.”
That wasn’t a lie. I might not have been attracted to her, but Alexandra was sweet and clever. She may have also been slightly mad, but you took the good with the bad. Celeste almost recoiled at my compliment.
“It is good for them,” Lord William said. “Majesty, they must acquaint themselves if they are to pursue this. Is that your intent then?”
Everyone stared at me. I swallowed hard.
“I would like to, yes. I think it will be good for us both. She is a wonderful person, a kind one, and we are connected in some sort of way. It sounds crazy, but… I do enjoy her company very much.”
Celeste smiled. I couldn’t tell if this was good or not, but I hoped it meant Alexandra and I would be let off the leash a bit.
“I’d like a moment to get to know her still,” I said. “And to propose properly, of course.”
That would buy me time.
“But it would be good for your country and mine. There is great media interest in covering such an event in Lundhavn. It’s my understanding, that since the great King’s death years ago, the country has been looking for a bit of happiness. Alexandra and I believe that anything which raises morale is the right thing to do. We are committed to securing the institution—for us both.”
Celeste beamed. “That sounds lovely.”
“A marriage would be popular,” Lord William said. “Especially a royal groom. That would be a fairytale. They’d make a happy, handsome couple. But we need to be careful how we approach?—”
“I think we might use the media to build the narrative and invite them in.” I hoped I wasn’t getting in over my head.
“We do not do that.”
“Yes, I know. It is a risk—all things are—but this would be so very curated. You see, one of the big problems with my brother’s wedding was that the costs were obscene, and he and his wife never spoke to the press. People felt out of it and wondered if it was all just something on the take. I’d hate for anyone to think that about Alexandra. I don’t mean to be critical, but people don’t feel they know her. She’s a wonderful person. If people got to know her, it would be a bonus for your country and the institution. Because what you need is a succession plan—one that secures it for years, right? The world is changing, ma’am. I am saying what I saw happened with my brother’s wedding.”
Celeste groaned.
Another courtier added, “Ma’am he may have a point. The biggest criticism of Alexandra is that no one knows anything about her. People think she is only a sterile figurehead. A royal engagement with a bit of press coverage couldn’t hurt. And it could defray some of the costs of a grand celebration.”
Lord William nodded. He was Celeste’s henchman. I knew it now.
“Get her to articulate this to me, Rikard, and we will discuss the particulars,” Celeste said.
I tried not to grin too wide. We were on our way. Now, I only hoped my father was able to get it together with our press nightmare. If he couldn’t, there was no way Alexandra would marry me. She was too good to put up with such a scandal and I wouldn’t drag her down with me.